Love and Tolerance
by TOO SOBER
Summary: The definition of tolerance is simple: A fair, objective, and permissive attitude towards those whom are different than those around them. So what happens when a portion of the world's populace is changed by a strange anomaly once thought to be benign and harmless? Can the world tolerate more differences, with the mess it already has?
1. Chapter 1

Love and Tolerance

My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic © Hasbro & Lauren Faust

By: TOO S0BER

-***::: Chapter 1 :::***-

Discovery

Sleep.

What is sleep? According to the beloved dictionary, sleep is to take the rest afforded by a suspension of voluntary bodily functions and the natural suspension, complete or partial, of consciousness; cease being awake. It is a function that is required for all, or more specifically animals with a large enough brain, in order to perform in their daily lives. Humans need it, raccoons need it, birds need it; hell, many believe that even sharks need it. Something about they rest "half" their brain at a time since their oxygen intake requires them to be in constant motion. It is quasi-essential for all of us.

So what about dreams?

Again, the dictionary defines dreams simply as a recurrence of images that run across the brain whilst asleep. Some take a different theory. That dreams are a gateway to other worlds and universes, seeing into the stars in ways currently incomprehensible to us humans. Some believe that dreams can be precursors to things that will happen; like a form of fortune telling or predicting the future – makes for great sci-fi. In conjunction with those possibilities, some writers think that maybe when we write, we are actually subconsciously connecting with a real universe; on a sort of "tour" that we feel with our words as they are recorded. Because this connection is completely incapable of being "felt", it is chalked up to the mystical powers of imagination (insert Spongebob rainbow here).

Anyways, I know I didn't completely believe in that sort of stuff. At least... until I awoke one morning, not feeling quite myself.

_-***::: o :::***-_

Damp.

...and _damn _cold.

That was the first inklings of feeling that permeated my flesh as I stared up, exhausted, at the unadorned staccato ceiling of my studio apartment. The dampness under the sheets told me I had been sweating in bed again. Happens every so often when warmer nights hit. Yet, at the same time it felt different somehow, like it stuck to me; I was reminded of a brief stay in Florida, their extremely hot and sticky humidity. Tucson was hot, yes, but the humidity only existed closer to Mount Lemon. Not down here where my humble apartment complex sat in the middle of the city, a short distance from the air force base where I worked.

For the moment, I ignored the pasty feeling in my mouth and the not unfamiliar coldness. Something else didn't seem right, and I couldn't put my finger on it. The ceiling above me was in stark focus, every obtrusive spat of stucco on the roof that was my neighbor's floor sprang out in detail, like a vertigo that seemed utterly alien to me for so very long.

My sore neck protesting, I twisted my head towards the area designated as the kitchen. Sure, I could have looked at the alarm clock right next to the bed/couch (it was one of those hybrid couches that could fold down into a bed if needed), only a scant foot away, but my suspicions needed a farther away target: the digital clock on the opposite side of the domicile.

_6:42 A.M._

I mouthed the time, not even having to squint at the clarity of the small numbers. Six in the morning. How. The. Hell. I groaned, wanting to smother myself in the wet, salty pillow. No matter how gross it was.

I've _never_ gotten up this early; especially not on my day off. And especially, _especially_ on a planned leave day. I had taken several days off from my job at work for a game launch that was important to me.

Closing my eyes, I promised only five more minutes. A lie I had told myself many times in my life as a twenty-one year old guy. Five minutes always turned into ten, then twenty, then evolved into hours. Truth be told, I hadn't gone to bed at anything close to a godly hour; it was close to three in the morning when I decided to finally hit the hay. Meaning I would be running on little over three hours of sleep if I decided to get up _and_ stay up the rest of the day.

Unlikely to happen.

I waited.

And waited...

And waited some more.

Despite the burning under my eyelids and the rising concern at the discovery that my eyesight had changed, (which hadn't quite clicked because of the groggy fog in my brain) sleep would not come to plunge me into oblivion. Damn it.

I groaned loudly. The tone seemed strange to me, I always had a gruff, deep voice like my dad had. As such, I was often mis-identified as him if my voice wasn't connected to my appearance. Like on the answering machine, or shouting around a corner. I blinked a few times, again staring at the ceiling. Annoyed that I would have to get up.

Pivoting on my hips, I sat up... and paused.

Everything felt... _wrong_. My arms felt weird, as though I had slept with a long thin sweater on. My legs felt twisted, but there was no pain that was associated with the word. Mentally, I felt my back itch in a very odd way. It had that tingling, pin-pricking sensation that happens when a leg or arm falls asleep. But even the odd sensation was, well, odd. It felt on my back, but at the same time, detached and foreign like a leech. Also, I have never had an experience where an _entire side_ of the main body fell asleep.

Suddenly a horn blared just outside the window, as an unseen car flew by the apartment.

I felt my ear turn to the sound as it passed. _Well, _I cocked an eyebrow (at least that seemed normal), _that's... different._ I could always move my ears a little bit, but this was almost like ten fold more; like a full twist.

I stared across the room at my entertainment system. Nothing special, forty-two inch HDTV with an xbox 360, several open DVD and game cases littering the open glass shelves. A marble stone coffee table that was almost too large for the studio. I had insisted on it, given that I already had some matching end tables. The prominent decoration being my trusty laptop, with a hookah in the center. No, I didn't smoke, but it still made a nice center piece. My eyes darted from the various objects in the apartment.

Everything was _bigger._

My height was a five foot, eleven inches. Unless I'm mistaken, that was slightly above average and a moderate muscular build thanks to my job in the grocery store I currently worked at. Normally when I sit up from the couch bed hybrid, the top of the coffee table came up to my knees when I was half squatting because the bed was a little low. But now it felt like the bed had risen, somehow, an extra foot and now I was sitting perfectly straight. I winced at this realization.

Did I shrink or something?

_No, that's just crazy talk_, I told myself. Shaking the disturbing thought from my head.

Still, I thought maybe I should look at myself in the mirror, might solve a few questions and put my mind at ease.

My mind had the motion in process, having done this a billion times before, muscle memory should have kicked in at an instance to balance the shifting weight as I attempted to stand. Suddenly the world tilted, and the carpet (and coffee table) shot up to greet my head. The stone showed no mercy as a sharp pain racked the side of my head, then the thump followed from landing on the much softer (but not that soft) carpet. I lay there, reeling from the completely unexpected fall, baffled.

I had had moments where I got up too quick, feelings of vertigo and nausea assaulting. But I knew what that was like, and had the reflexes to compensate. Or so I thought. No vertigo, no nausea, no nothing. Just... boom, table. I tasted copper in my mouth, cursing as I bit my tongue from the fall, and a cooling sticky sensation along my right temple.

"Ouch," I said to no one in particular, groaning as I tried to stand once more.

Blinking, I used my forearms to push myself to my knees, and felt a small sense of pride as I lifted off the carpeted floor. Then immediately grimaced at the tiny blood stain. Great.

Using the damnable table and the bed as leverage, I lifted myself up until I was back on my feet. Cautiously, arms spread wide ready to catch on something, I made my way to one of the two segregated rooms in my studio, eager to make sure the gash in my head wasn't as bad as it felt. My head throbbed like hell. It took a lot longer than I would have liked, but eventually I was in the bathroom.

Immediately I looked up at the gash and sighed in relief. It wasn't nearly as bad as... it... felt...

Orange.

I was confronted by what appeared to be a small orange creature with large eyes and perky, pointed ears. Flowing brown hair that had two tones of the color in it – eerily familiar. Wide steel blue eyes stared at me from an alternate universe. Slowly, the creature's maw opened in what appeared to be shock. Its arms, also coated in short orange fuzz, braced against the reflected counter top just below it. I looked down, there was a long frizzy tail that matched the patch on the creature's impossibly large head.

The creature reminded me of an equine – just much more pastel and completely... weird. I had seen them before, but just where I had spotted them eluded me. The answer drifted out of sight in the back of my mind as I tried to reach for it. As before, the bathroom seemed much larger like the main room before. If memory served, and this creature was the size I suspected, I should be towering over it by at least two feet; but instead we were eye level. Staring.

Bathroom.

Bathrooms have mirrors.

Mirrors reflect whatever stands... in... front of... them.

An unmanly _squeek_ escaped my mouth as the avalanching thoughts slapped me in the face. The mirror mocking _my_ every move and _my_ appearance. Not some random as hell creature!

The breath of surprised air that escaped my mouth startled me. I jerked my arms up to my mouth and the mirror mimicked. Instead of fingers I felt hard stubs, and winced as I slammed my lips harder than I meant to. At that moment the strange illusion vanished from view as a new, falling vertigo overtook me, and the world disappeared in a thud of blackness.

_-***::: o :::***-_

"Ouch," I said, rubbing the latest bump on my head, the throbbing pain making it difficult to think.

Okay, something is wrong. I know that much. I just need to figure out what. Taking a deep breath, I sat up slowly on the cold bathroom tile that had slowly warmed to the touch of my flesh. I examined the... things... that had replaced my legs and feet. Recognizing the latter as hooves; the joint structure's name eluded me at the moment. Forcing myself to continue, I held up my arms.

They too, ended in hard stubby hooves. Oddly enough, they were indistinguishably blended to my body as a whole, covered by the short orange hair of a coat of fur.

_So maybe that explains the sweat, _I thought, recalling one night I had made the mistake of sleeping under the comforter with a full compliment of clothing on, including shoes and a leather jacket. I was too drunk, and too tired, to care though; paid for it in the morning of course.

One of the two articles of clothing I had worn the night before now were mysteriously missing. My chest was still bound in the plain white t-shirt, now three sizes too large. An irrational sense of embarrassment washed over me, feeling the blushing burn on my cheeks, as I realized my green boxers were gone. My gaze shifted to the only window in the studio, and my heart rate declined in gratitude that I had the forethought to close it before sleeping. Of course, I somehow think seeing a _pony_ (that was the word!) would be weirder than seeing a half naked white guy.

I felt something swish along my leg.

I watched as the scruffy tail with two different shades of brown curled around my midsection, attempting to hide my underwearless shame. The softness seemed somehow calming, and I thought maybe it was a subconscious thing. Most likely it was, recalling the feeling of my ear twisting to the car horn from earlier.

After a few more moments of dumb-foundedness on the floor, I decided to try standing again. Strange as it sounds, it was far more difficult balancing on four legs than on two. Falling didn't reoccur, but the fear of it got my adrenaline going. Banging your head hurts. After a moment I reared up and postured in front of the mirror again, steeling myself.

The creature... _I_... stared back at me. All the same as before.

The first thing I noticed as I leaned a bit closer was that the expression of confusion was far more... pronounced. This almost cartoon-ish face seemed to be far more expressive than an ordinary human face. I shuddered at the thought of not being human. Clearly I was not human right now, yet my mind seemed unchanged.

My train of thought was interrupted by the aggravated itching underneath my shirt. The same scratching torture that assaulted me in bed. The mirror obliviously reflected the magnified look of annoyance on my face. Damn it! This shirt needs to go!

Getting it off, where to start?

Normally I'd grab the waist and just pull upwards until the article of clothing would pass over my head, but without fingers how the hell would this work? I tested the movement articulation of my new head and neck – surprisingly flexible. I think I could easily twist back and grasp the shirt with my mouth, and maybe pull it off.

I was about to commence, having the rim of the white cloth between my teeth – and paused. I was still leaning against the bathroom counter. Knowing my luck, I would somehow get stuck and panic, bonking myself on the head once again.

"Not this time," I exclaimed to myself, almost wincing at the squeaky voice that had replaced my deep throat. One problem at a time; this itch needs to go! I walked, (trotted?) clumsily, back into the main room, trying to put as much distance as my home would allow from objects that could potentially hurt.

I grasped the white cloth in my mouth (yuck) again, and gently pulled forward. First snag, feeling pressure at my shoulder. I groaned, it's never that easy. After a moment of considering, I lowered my front half to the ground, feeling the tension release, and the shirt glided forward. New problem, the shirt was now stuck on my head.

Arrugh! I really missed my fingers right about now.

This dilemma took a bit longer to figure out. But after several minutes and colorful curses later, I finally dislodged the damnable shirt. It was immediately forgotten as the itch utterly disappeared. That wasn't all that happened however as I felt a massive twitch, and _movement_ on my back for just a moment before it settled down peacefully.

I blinked several times, before craning my neck to observe my back (shenanigans I say at the thought).

Feathers. A wing with feathers adorned the length of my left side. A quick shake of my head confirmed a matching appendage on the opposite. My jaw dropped to the floor, and I could practically feel my irises shrinking in some comical overly-expressive way.

A _pegasus!?_

I've not only awoken to find that I am a cartoon-ish equine, but a pegasus cartoon-ish equine. Mind. Blown.

An involuntary smirk crossed my face when my jaw decided to lift itself. Flying was something of a personal dream of mine; although not quite like this. This was _better_. Jets and propeller driven craft and other means of flying in the great blue sky, watching as the ground disappeared, soaring above the clouds. I tried and failed to suppress another unmanly sound that came close to _squee_.

I tried to open my wing gifts, to see what my wingspan might be; a mental guess said around four feet, but the hell did I know? I was a creature straight out of myth now. When they didn't respond, I prodded them with a hoof.

And winced. _Ouch!_ I felt like I had been stung by an angry spider. A familiar needling sensation washing over. Were the feathery wings numb? Quite possible, I reasoned, in all likelihood I had slept on top of them for hours. Under ideal circumstances, arms and/or legs can go numb even quicker. On the other hand (Hoof? This was weird.) maybe my _human_ brain couldn't handle using the _pegasus_ wings yet; after all walking had been, and still is, a tremendous challenge.

Even with the comforting thought that flight was still very palpable, it still sucked. If for no other reason than I couldn't leap out the window and fly right now. Another sensation at the back of my skull, the feeling of my ears pressing against the back of my head.

_Odd,_ I thought at the strange notion, mentally imagining what that must have looked like. The familiarity nagged at me, _where had I seen that before...?_

I glanced passively at the clock, only about an hour had passed by. Knowing that I didn't have work to attend to, and could recall no social plans, I felt relieved. The time would be better spent getting used to this new body, the way it feels, the way it reacts, and most importantly, how to "convert" everyday things back into routine. This sort of upheaval on the magnitude of moving to a whole new country with a language and culture that's never been heard of before. My chest impacted at the notion.

I sighed.

It was going to be a long weekend...

_-***::: o :::***-_

Practice makes perfect.

But no one takes into account how _much_ practice makes perfect.

My thoughts exactly as I recounted how many times I face planted while trying to trot around the limited space of the apartment. The most taken-for-granted action had taken hours to even mildly get used to. Walking on four limbs, fighting the urge to rear up on the new "hind" legs instead, while my still human brain protesting the unnatural motions. I managed to help the space issue by leaning the coffee table against the window wall next to the front door. Pushing things was as simple as bracing against them and, well, pushing forward – which was good news for when I would eventually have to go back to work.

_Back to work..._

That was one of many encounters I was dreading. I only had minor doubts about the ability to do my job; which entailed moving boxes of shipped product all day, sometimes involved in driving a forklift, and in general breaking down the daily loads. That would simply require a change of tact. But the biggest, and some say most important, aspect of the job would be customer service. Interacting with the public.

As in people. As in, possibly, not _pony_ people.

Was it just me or was it everyone? I listened to the front door and took a quick peek outside the window. Unfortunately I didn't see another living soul that wasn't behind the wheel of a car, and therefore couldn't make out whether or not they were human or equine. But it must not have been the _entire_ population of the planet; I assumed that if that was the case there would be panic in the streets, fires, disasters, etcetera. A similar reaction to science fiction movies when aliens showed up... right before they started blasting. I cursed my imagination, surely that wouldn't be the case right, since this is the real world and not some movie or book... right?

The window may not have given me a sufficient answer, but maybe the news would. I searched around for the TV remote, and after several curse lined minutes, finally found it on the floor halfway underneath the couch.

Now how to pick it up without fingers...

I could try to pick it up by using my fore hooves as a pair of pincers, but my previous experiences with crane machines said that would be a bad idea, and only lead to shouting more expletives. That left my mouth. No, literally, I would have to grasp the controller in my mouth. Yuck.

I sighed, then bent over to chew the hard plastic. Surprisingly, and gratefully, there was no god-awful taste waiting for my tongue – not that I was trying to taste it, nor curious as to what plastic tasted like. Quickly though, I sat the device on the bed, nudging it with my nose to point towards the inactive television.

Grimacing, I realized now I need to figure out how to push the damned button. A scene from Spongebob flashed in my mind, where Squidward was having a "grip" problem because he couldn't win at a crane game. He used his eyeball to press the changer's button. I winced at thinking about his reaction of pain. Not gonna happen. Besides that was still physically impossible – right?

I leaned over the plethora of buttons, trying to position my pointed nose over the red power on/off circle. I felt genuinely stupid for having to do this. There was really no reason why I felt that way, I just did. After a couple tries the TV finally flickered to life. I sat down on the carpet, ready to receive.

Luckily for me, the channel was already on CNN, and if this was bigger than I suspected, the story would _at least_ be subtitled scrolling across the screen. The familiar visage of the anchor man appeared on the fancy wooden desk, the fake picture of the city plastered behind him as he gave the morning news. It took me a moment to notice his co-anchor was missing. I listened as he gave an update on an old story.

"In other news the extra terrestrial phenomenon is still inactive and passive after first appearing just outside lunar orbit almost one year ago next week." the anchor continued. "Military and intelligence agencies the world over are still actively monitoring the phenomenon for any and all changes, insisting that there is no danger as of yet."

I recalled when the strange energy occurrence had first arrived. It looked, to me at least, like a lightning bolt shaped tear in space. I glanced out the window. There is was, floating ominously over the mountains in the same place as always. Like a child had taken a giant lightning-colored crayon and drew a crude picture. When it first showed up, naturally, there was panic in the streets. After several days, everything calmed down when it became apparent that there was no invasion, no doomsday armageddon, no supernatural occurrences, etcetera. Still, that didn't stop every major earth military force from fully mobilizing and nearly starting world war three. After the first few months, the military backed down partially, in favor of passive monitoring with reaction forces on standby.

"... many woke up this morning feeling strange." My ears shot up, bending their way towards the source. "Reports of thousands of people being "changed" when they woke up this fine morning to find that they were no longer themselves." The screen flashed to some pictures in a hospital. The scene in the hospital was chaos as nurses and doctors wheeled patients about. They were a mix of normal humans while the other portions were more of the equine ponies. I made a mental guess that many of the newly transformed tried to drive to work without knowing, or they did know, and tried to seek help. Only to figure out the hard way that driving would be very difficult.

"Thousands of car accidents occurred within just an hour," the anchor confirmed my suspicion. "as many of these new creatures attempted to drive cars and trucks. Believing the vehicles to be stolen, the police departments of various cities have begun making arrests of those not critically injured."

That I did not expect. They're arresting them? Unless the anchor was exaggerating the numbers, surely there was enough evidence to say that those ponies are the people transformed? I found myself referring to one of my favorite cynical phrases: _people are stupid._

I felt a minor sense of relief. At least it wasn't _only_ me this had happened to. Although I regretted that many seemed to have been hurt or maybe killed. I still maintain that this was overkill: arresting the new "species" seemed very... fascist, somehow.

The anchorman paused in his news report, glancing at an unseen commotion off screen. It sounded like someone was trying to block someone else from coming on the set, a deep voice protesting. Another voice, this one a bit more familiar, insisted that (it sounded feminine) she be allowed to pass as it was her job... or something like that. After a few seconds, a new figure stepped into the screen – a pony mare.

Other than the dark shaded pink coat, everything else about her seemed very familiar. From the long blond hair (mane... arrugh!), and her deep blue eyes. It was the anchorman's female counterpart of the daily news, apparently another victim of this transformation phenomenon. I blinked a few times as I noticed she was indeed wearing clothing, a small business suit that looked like it was made for a child, and yet appropriate for this kind of job. My thought stirred and I frowned. How did she get such a suit in such a short amount of time?

The mare glared off screen at the security guard, or at least I assumed security personnel, while shuffling through some papers. After a moment her warm smile returned and began giving a few minor news announcements. Just like nothing had happened. Part of me admired the fact that she so boldly showed up for work and acted so very professional despite what clearly had happened. Although the other part couldn't blame the rude way the anchorman was staring at her, or the security guard; after all, no one knew what was going on yet... right? She finished her announcements and turned to look at her cohort, whom was still staring at her. After a few tense seconds, she coughed loudly and snapped him out of his reverie. I couldn't help but chuckle.

A sudden musical beat filled the air, making my heart thump out of my chest.

My eyes darted around, trying to pick up the source, and long ears turned this way and that. I was confused enough that I couldn't pick up where the random beat had come from and decided to forget about it. After a few moments of quiet, it announced again. This time I focused.

Indeed recognizing the familiar tone, I trotted into the kitchen and dug out the small cellular device from underneath a kitchen rag. The small, smart, touch screen phone had been plugged into the only outlet in my pathetic excuse for a kitchen. I grabbed the phone in my mouth, putting my left hoof on the cord to prevent it from being pulled from the socket, and pulled. The phone came free without mishap.

Setting the phone on the small cramped counter, I stared at it.

How the hell was I supposed to use this thing now?

For several minutes longer, I formulated and discarded what must have been a dozen plans. After a while, and muttering several expletives of frustration, I just went with the simplest. Turning the device long ways, I grasped it with my hooves and "held" it steady; then used my nose to slide the screen up, revealing the keyboard, garnering a sneeze for my efforts. This activated the screen and showed I had two new text messages. Again using my nose (a bit more gently this time, to avoid sneezes) to select them. They were both from one of my closest friends.

_Marcus: Hey bud, what's going on?_

I blinked. Was that a literal statement or just saying hello? Having no idea, I continued to the next message.

_Marcus: Want to see a movie or something? I sent a text to Ash, but she hasn't texted me back yet._

I typed out a response, very slowly, since I had to use my damned nose.

_Me: Um, I dunno bro. _I struggled for some kind of excuse, then opted out as lack of funds. _I'm kind of broke right now._

A minute goes by, and the obnoxious music repeats again.

_Marcus: It's no prob. I'll spot ya. See if u can get a hold of Ash._

Damn it. For once I cursed his generous nature. Truth was I was nowhere near broke, in fact I had a decent savings built up. I was no penny pincher, I just didn't have many things I wanted to buy. Only the occasional game, like the release coming up soon, would garner the attention of the numbered plastic debit card in my wallet. I'll have to try another excuse to weasel my way out of this, but first I needed to text Ashley.

My heart fluttered a little bit at the thought of Ashley. Her, Marcus and I had been school mates since the fourth grade. We hung out, watched out for each other and played regularly as time allowed. Over time I... well... developed a crush on her. Unfortunately she didn't have the same interest in me. In fact she... well... had different interests as far as those kind of relationships went. Was it possible for your heart to burst multiple times in one lifetime? If so, then her telling me she was, my mind flared at the word, _lesbian_ was one such event when I tried one time to express my crush in the hopes it would become more than just friendship. She saw I was so forlorn, and added that she still wanted to be friends with me. Right.

I felt my ears plaster against my head as a frown tugged my jaw muscles. Funny how they always want to be friends even after they rip your heart out...

I banished the thought from my head. No, that wasn't (completely) fair. I knew she didn't mean to hurt me, even though it did; greatly so. Though damaged, our friendship did continue to thrive. We still went out to movies, concerts, game launches (yes, she was a gamer too), etcetera. It would have been a great match, which made it none the easier. Eventually I got over it... mostly. What could have been and all that crap.

After a few moments I managed to get the new text message screen up.

_Me: Hey Ash, how r u? Marcus wants to no if u want to c a movie._

I waited a few minutes. When no reply came, I briefly considered writing another message to her, but instead opted to send one back to Marcus.

_Me: No answer yet. Maybe her phone broke? Probably nothing srs..._

I tried to diffuse the worry that was likely concerning Marcus. He was a year older than Ash and I, and sometimes acted like an older brother of sorts, worrying about this and that. He was by no means a "worry wart", he just cared.

_Marcus: Hm. Maybe we should go over, c if everything is all right. _Case in point.

Panic washed over me. He can't come over and see me like this! He can't! But if I knew him as well as I thought I did (and I did) then he would come over regardless. Come on, think. Think!

_Me: I'm sure everything is fine. No need to bother her. _The message was a lie in almost every aspect.

I caught myself chewing my hoof, eyes glued to the little bright screen, waiting for his response as the seconds ticked by painfully slow. Dread hanging heavy, palpable, in the air.

_Marcus: Eh, maybe ur right. _Phew.

Another message popped up.

_Ashley: Um, I can't go see a movie. Sick, real sick. Cannot go._

Another relief. Ashley, aside from announcing she had some cold or flu or something, was at least well enough to text. I relayed the news to Marcus, and he replied that he had gotten the same text.

_Marcus: Well, we should definitely go see her Sam. _God damn the sun to hell in a hand basket!

Arrugh! Damn it. He was likely going to come over now. How the hell was I going to explain this? I looked over my equine body, reminded by the newscaster mare that I was essentially naked ever since I removed the white tee shirt to alleviate the itchiness of my... wings. My eye twitched, this was still very weird.

_Marcus: I'll be over in about an hour. Gonna stop by wal-greens and get medicine for ash. What is she sick with? _Ffffffffff!

Double damn! I was screwed now. I repeated that phrase and the popular question of "what was I going to do!?" over and over in my head, pacing the room continuously. Ignoring the phone completely, I tried to formulate some kind of plan, something to keep Marcus from coming. I was reminded of Ashley's mysterious illness. Maybe I can use that too? Worth a shot.

_Me: I dunno, it might be highly contagious. Best leave her be._

Heart thumping, I waited for his response. Annoyed at finding my damned hoof creeping up to my mouth again.

_Marcus: Eh, we'll be careful. Besides, sick means vacation, lol._

Damn him! He was using my favorite excuse against me. I always joked and made cracks that I wanted to get sick just to get out of work, or school back when that applied. I head butted the phone, sending it deeper into the couch bed hybrid. One hour. I had sixty minutes (approximately) until this came crashing down.

I looked around the small studio, looking for anything I could possibly do to avert the inevitable. There was truly no place to hide in a studio apartment, everything was compact and small. Even though the bathroom and closet were separate rooms, they were still far too small to adequately hide in. Simply not answering the door wasn't an option. Most of us lived on our own, and we all had extra keys made in case any of us got locked out somehow or lost our own set. Which meant that Marcus could just let himself in; if I did hide, and he managed not to find me somehow, he might call the cops thinking something bad had happened. And I did not need that kind of attention.

Well, truth be told I didn't need any attention... _at all. _But that wasn't an option anymore. The more I thought about it, the more I realized this was inevitable. Whether it was revealing it to my friends, family, or co-workers, this _had_ to happen. Eventually, irrevocably, inevitably happen. Closing my eyes and wishing it all away wasn't going to do shit. That and I knew now I wasn't the only person exposed to whatever this was. The news broadcast had proven that in more ways than one.

I took a deep breath, and concentrated. I knew what I needed to do, the only question now was what approach to take. With that thought in mind, I began straightening up the apartment like I always did before expecting company.


	2. Chapter 2

Love and Tolerance

My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic © Hasbro & Lauren Faust

By: TOO S0BER

-***::: Chapter 2 :::***-

Journey

"Ahhh," I sighed slowly, the steaming hot water pouring over me.

What was it about hot showers that felt so rejuvenating? And for some odd reason, I was enjoying it far more as a pony creature. My muscles had been greatly tensed from the stressing events beforehand (Hoof? Arrugh!), and greatly needed some relief. I even felt my wings loosen and managed to stretch them just a bit, albeit quite limited, within the confines of the shower. It fitted this smaller body a lot better than my significantly larger human body. Frowning as I remembered numerous baths that could have been so much more relaxing if the damn tub was just a bit bigger. Indeed I was pleased knowing it was very true, although shrinking wasn't the way I thought the idea would be proven.

After a few minutes longer, I finally decided that I needed to exit the shower. Moving a bit closer to the single faucet that controlled the water, I sat down in front of it, then used my stubby forearms to turn the nob clockwise. A few turns later, the flow dwindled from a firm, continuous stream to barely a dribble, and that didn't last long either. I felt my sobbing wet tail sticking messily to my backside, and could partially see my hair, or mane rather (horse terminology wasn't completely unknown to me), clinging around my lower face.

Soaking wet, a smile crept across my face – at the thought of something I had, for some reason, always wanted to do. Tensing, I shook my body back and forth like a dog after crawling out of a pool. Shaking only helped to minimally dry me, and it knocked my hair completely in my face, making sight difficult as everything turned brown. But it wasn't any less fun!

Without hands, I didn't even bother trying to draw the shower curtain open, so I simply meandered through the far opening. On the bathroom floor below me, two large blue towels had been spread out across the floor, with two more neatly folded on the small counter. Normally I'd only need the one drying cloth, but now it would require much more.

I had partially planned out how I would dry myself before even stepping into the shower. Every mundane move that had been done a certain way now had to be thrown out the window, and repeatedly returned to the proverbial drawing board.

Sitting down on one of the towels, I grasped the second in my mouth and tossed it in the air. Streaks of brown vision turned almost black as the cloth landed over my face – perfect. Stretching my forearms out from under the towel, I began rubbing all around my face and neck. Attempting to squeeze the majority of the water from my coat in those areas. After I was reasonably sure my top half was dry, I began work on my lower half. That proved a little bit more difficult, but was doable. Now I took one of the folded towels and managed to wrap up the long tail, after separating it from my leg. After several attempts at trying to do the same for my mane, as well as a few choice curses, I gave up; instead electing to try and brush it. Even without fingers, I found it not that difficult to simply grasp it with both of the stubby hooves.

Stepping down from the counter, I pondered; what about the wings? Should I just let them air dry, or attempt to do it myself? I recalled how sensitive they were when I first touched them. Truthfully though, that may have just been numbness from sleeping on them. Maybe they were fine now?

_Only one way to find out,_ I thought, slinging one hoof over to the opposite side. Gently I prodded the same area I had before. I smiled, there was indeed more sensation than expected, but nothing like the angry insect bite I had associated it with earlier. Now I closed my eyes to concentrate a bit more.

I focused on my back, all thought bent on feeling the appendages. In the shower I had managed a small spanning, but now I wanted them to extend full and proud. That itching sensation returned as I triggered new and unfamiliar muscle groups with nerve endings. Suddenly, I felt what felt like hard wood, and on the other side a plastic cloth that gave way at my touch. Two objects came to mind, the bathroom door and the shower curtain – both of which were on the opposite ends of the small room for hygiene.

I opened my eyes, already knowing. From end to end the feathery limbs touched tip to tip from exactly where I imagined. They were glorious! I quickly thought about the size of my bathroom, calculating. Six and a half, maybe seven feet wingspan.

_Six and a half, maybe seven feet wingspan._ Hot damn!

If my knowledge of wingspan for real planes and jets applied, then that was as optimum as it could get. I sucked in a breath, feeling the relief from holding it unknowingly.

"Yes!" I shouted in glee, jumping up in the air.

Smiling from ear to ear, I folded the wings down from their glory, examining them closer and testing their articulation. They were surprisingly flexible, their range of motion only increased my excitement. The muscles felt a bit stiff, flight would likely take time and much. _Much_ practice; but now I knew. I couldn't help but _squee_. The concern for making unmanly sounds forgotten.

My ear twitched and turned towards the wall. The sound of a door closing catching my attention. I wasn't concerned, however. I already knew Marcus was in the apartment, probably raiding my pantry like usual. Hey, after all, I did have to unlatch the security chains for him to get in. I frowned, recalling how difficult that had been.

Marcus had arrived on time like he'd always done. Knocking politely as though nothing was different. I had just sat down after finishing the last of the cleaning, and had great difficulty unlatching the damned door. My friend grew concerned at how long the simple task was taking, and began asking if everything was okay. At the time I did not answer, knowing the disconnected, _very_ different voice would garner unwanted conclusions. Eventually the door was opened, and I scrambled to the far side of the room as he walked in. To say the moment was awkward would be a huge understatement.

He walked in and froze. I couldn't see his eyes through the 100% tinted sunglasses that he wore, a piece of fashion formed partially emulating his favorite movie character: Morpheus from the Matrix series. But I think it was safe to say they were as big as dinner plates. I know mine were, as I awaited his first response.

He said my name questioningly, and I nodded.

He asked what had happened, and I shrugged, frowning.

Silence. For the longest time, silence.

He took off his sunglasses, clear concern on his face. I winced, a little too noticeably, briefly forgetting that the new face expressed profusely.

He smiled warmly and simply dismissed the issue, changing the subject to Ashley and asked if I was ready to go.

I hesitated to speak, but eventually did. Inquiring that I had not showered yet. He paused at how my voice had changed, caught off guard – which rarely happened. He sat on the chair, casually.

After a few more moments, he cocked an eyebrow and looked at the shower, smiling. I blinked, and then hurried off to clean up.

I checked myself in the mirror, satisfied that I looked presentable despite it being the first time drying off in such a manner. Expecting my mane to look like a severe case of bed-head, I was very surprised that it looked almost exactly as it had before I stepped into the shower. The same could be said for my tail as well after shrugging off the towel wrapped around it.

I opened the door and walked out slowly, trying to keep my expression neutral.

A milk chocolate skinned man with short cropped black hair sat in the arm chair. He wore ordinary blue jeans, a red colored, collared shirt with a white undershirt beneath that. In his hands was a plastic zip-lock container full of steaming rice, leftovers from a meal a few nights ago.

"Hope ya don't mind," he said with a mouthful of the chicken fried rice, amazingly he didn't spout any of it. "skipped breakfast."

"Nah," I smiled back. This was routine for him, and I truly didn't mind. This time he didn't pause or react to the sound of my new voice.

"Great!" he answered back, digging back into his (my) food with gusto. "I swear, no one cooks better than you Sam."

I appreciated the compliment, but it was nothing special. Just white rice and roast chicken with a few vegetables like carrots and such. I could smell the food, and for some odd reason I was not enticed by the savory scent. In fact, I almost seemed repulsed by it. Odd, very odd. Chalk another up on the board of 'weird shit' today. That list was getting rather long.

Marcus pounded his chest a couple times, apparently eating a little too fast. He set the bowl aside for a moment and turned his gaze to me. "So," he said. "you just woke up like this?"

"E'yup." I answered simply, my expression going back to neutral. I still wasn't sure how he was taking this, but it seemed pretty well considering this was freakishly new.

He glanced at the TV, which was still tuned to the CNN news, watching the human and pony newscasters telling other stories or reiterating older news. He pointed his thumb at the screen and said, "Seems you're not the only one..."

Despite the circumstances, I could not help but roll my eyes as Marcus stated the obvious. "It seems so." I kept my higher pitched voice even.

Finishing the last few bites of the rice, he set the bowl down for the final time. "A pegasus pony huh?" he rhetorically asked, "That's pretty wild. How does it feel?"

I considered his question, many words came to mind, "Short," was one of the foremost, so that's what I said.

He snickered at my answer. Before now I was always a good head taller than Marcus, and occasionally I gave him shit for it, now he was _two_ heads taller than me. Oh karma, how ye taunt me so.

"Must be hard adjusting." He cautiously asked when the snickering died.

"It's been," I paused, thinking. It hadn't been _that_ difficult; at least not yet. Call me an optimist, but the first day seems to have gone very well. I was more worried about the future. Especially when it came to being around others that weren't friends or family. "Well... it's too early to tell." I answered lamely.

Marcus simply nodded, understanding.

I pondered a question of my own, "It seems like just my body has changed. My mind, thoughts and memories, are still the same. I'm still _me_." I explained, building up to the question itself. "Only thing I can't figure out is why my voice is so... different. Shouldn't it be the same as before?"

Briefly I caught my friend's eyes widen for just a moment, before he quashed the sudden expression. I cocked an eyebrow at him, and asked tentatively. "What?" He didn't answer, he seemed to be avoiding my gaze, and that did not sit well under the circumstances.

I narrowed my gaze a bit, asking a bit more forcefully, "What..."

"Er, uh..." Marcus stared and stammered, but still kept his thoughts to himself. Now was _not_ the time to keep secrets. If he knew something about this, I _needed_ to know.

"What!" I raised my voice a bit more, standing up from my seated position. My eyes narrowed further.

"It's nothing." He held his palms up defensively, clearly lying through his teeth.

I growled (Really? Growled?) at him. "Tell me, tell me, tell me!" I shouted, emphasizing each word as the phrase repeated. As the last words left my lips I waved my forehooves in the air, stomping them back down. I meant business.

"Okay, okay!" Marcus took a deep breath, looking at me partly sullen. "You're not going to like it." He warned, trying one last time to avoid the matter. It failed as I glared more intensely at him.

"This is going to sound incredibly random, and very weird," he started explaining, I felt a stone form in my gut. I wasn't going to like this was I? "but I need you to spread your... hind?... legs."

What. What? WHAT!?

My menacing glare turned to utter shock. My jaw dropped to the floor, and I felt a burning blush forming on my face. Was he serious? Spread. My. Legs?

Honestly though, I _was_ technically naked in front of him, I slowly realized. But I had, unconsciously, kept my forearms tightly together, blocking any view to my lower regions when I wasn't standing upright. A familiar tickling sensation appeared, my tail reflexively weaving it's way over the... area, as if protecting it.

"You want me to _what_?" I said, aghast.

He nodded, and then evenly added, "It's the only way to confirm my suspicions."

My eye twitched. What suspicions? What the hell was he...oh. _Oh._

I felt a great chill rush up my spine, coming to terms with my guess as to what Marcus's 'suspicions' might be. I was _not_ going to spread for him, but this was something I could likely determine myself as well. I swiveled away, turning my back to him, and spread as wide as I could. Bending my head down low, staring down into the inner thighs.

I froze, then bolted upright.

I swiveled halfway back to him, feeling more subconscious than ever, the blush returning with a vengeance. I could feel my eyes shrink as I stared at Marcus. He managed a very weak smile, with a pitying look in his eyes. No, it wasn't pity, just a sort of knowing.

"I'm," my voice croaked, my mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. "I'm... a..." the word I scavenged my head for refused to reveal itself. I couldn't use the other word, it wouldn't apply under these circumstances. Instead I repeated like a broken, and breaking down, record. "I'm... a..." suddenly my throat felt very sore, my nose stuffing up.

"A mare." Marcus answered. A what? "a female pony." He clarified.

_A female pony_.

The words rung loudly in my head. My eyes felt like they were going to bug out of my cartoon-ish head if they got much wider. How was this possible? _How?_The world began to fade, the ceiling spun and a familiar blackness overtook me. The last sound I heard was a male voice shouting my name.

_-***::: o :::***-_

I breathed rapidly into the brown paper bag that Marcus was holding in front of my face. He told me that I'd passed out, bonking my head on the coffee table. What was with my head getting so friendly with that damned table today. Breaking the revelation to me a separate time, I began hyperventilating rapidly. Hence the paper bag. This went on for some time until I finally insisted I was okay, waving a hoof to dismiss the brown bag.

"A mare," I repeated once more. Frazzled, but calm more or less. My stare felt like it stretched on for eternity, like my blank gaze could see through time itself.

"A mare," Marcus confirmed. "Honestly, it's not _that_ bad." He said, trying to downplay the issue.

I shot him a venomous glare, feeling my eyes mist over slightly. It must have been quite intense, as the half African American recoiled from it. How could he possibly have any idea what was going through my mind right now? He didn't! Therefore he couldn't possibly make such a statement! It infuriated me to the core. It was like chopping off someone's arm and saying get over it, it's only a flesh wound.'!

"I'm sorry," he said after a moment under the gaze. "I didn't mean..." drifting off, not sure what to say.

It may have explained a few things. I hadn't noticed until now, but I did seem more... I don't know, emotional? I cringed at the stereotype, things I did not like to perpetuate. Come to think of it, why hadn't I caught on to that before? The voice was the biggest, and until I took a peek at myself, and only clue of the other change. Marcus had apparently picked up on it from the first word out of my mouth, so why didn't I? Apparently transforming into a pegasus pony... _mare_... didn't make me any smarter. A small smile crept on my lips thinking about the intelligence stereotype, and that I may have broken it.

"So," Marcus was still standing... no, _towering_... over me. That was going to take some getting used to, as I craned my head to look up at him. "do I need to hang on to this?"

I wanted to say 'of course not', but something told me I may need it again... maybe several times if the day held more surprises like _that _in store. "Probably." I replied simply.

"Okay," he folded the baggy and stuffed it into his back pocket. "should we get going then? You had your shower..."

I thought for a moment. Was I ready to step into the world like this yet? Marcus had been understanding in more ways than one, but what about the other tenants? What about the employees that ran the office? My chest heaved faster as I contemplated the questions buzzing my brain. I tried to slow down my breathing when I heard the rumpling of brown paper bag, waving a hoof to signal I was okay. Not convinced, Marcus kept the bag ready.

"Uh," I started, heart still pounding but slowing down steadily. "I don't think I'm ready for the _public_ public." I frowned and looked up at him (okay, gonna get neck cramps soon).

Marcus moved away from me and sat back down, hard, on the lounge chair. He sat there staring at me for several moments while I tried to guess what went through his mind. After a moment, I sat back on my rump. After several more minutes, I lowered my front with some confused difficulty, and sat like a dog usually does; my hind legs contracted beneath me, and my forelegs partially outstretched. He made some comment about me being so good at that already, and I stared blankly at him. Not caring that it was, maybe, a snide remark.

Suddenly, a smile creased its way across his lips. He glanced at me, then at the bed, and then at something a short distance behind me. Grinning brightly, he put the dark sunglasses back over his brown eyes.

I knew that look. He was having some kind of 'ingenious' idea. I frowned nervously, knowing this probably wasn't going to be good for me.

"I know the _perfect_ way to get you through unseen," he said through his shit-eating grin. That grin disappeared fairly quick. "too bad you showered already though..."

My eyes opened wide, simultaneously my ears shot up too. _Huh_?

I stared silently into his face as he moved near me, heart racing. _Okay, I'm really not going to like this am I?_


	3. Chapter 3

Love and Tolerance

My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic © Hasbro & Lauren Faust

By: TOO S0BER

-***::: Chapter 3 :::***-

Confrontation

_Oof!_

I groaned as I was jostled around unceremoniously, cramped between dozens and dozens of different sized clothes and articles of dirty laundry. Barely any light squeezed through the perforated laundry sack Marcus had stuffed me in. It was a brilliant idea, really it was, I just wished it didn't involve wallowing in the accumulated stink of a week's worth of dirty dirtiness!

I fought back my gag reflex. _I need to use stronger detergent_, I thought, trying to block the wretched stink from my nose. Hooves made that attempt all but futile.

_Oof!_

I growled a little, annoying stinkiness forgotten.

_When I get out of here I am going to punch you so _hard_! _Threatening silently. I knew he was having his jollies with me in the sack. Hitting every bump, jumping off every stair step, the occasional 'accidental' bump into a wall! I even suspected he was taking the long way through the apartment complex.

"When I get out of here you're gonna get it Marcus!" I fumed, reiterating my threat aloud, just above a whisper. All I received for it was what felt like an elbow that jabbed into my flank. I winced, not enjoying the irony of a pony getting a charlie horse.

Okay, now I'm _mad_. I was just about to kick in the direction I suspected his back was, but then stopped as figures passed by through the little holes. That, and I heard a soft shushing noise once they were some distance away, if the footsteps were any indication. Despite being cramped in the tiny bag, I crossed by forehooves, feeling the unfairness of not getting revenge right there and then. Damn it.

Despite all this, the plan was working. Through what little gaps in the bag that weren't too obscured to see through, I made out the silhouettes of other people passing by as we made our way through the apartment complex. Not giving a second thought to the dark skinned man carrying what they assumed was his laundry. Eventually I heard the faint honk of a car alarm as Marcus unlocked the door to his SUV. Light disappeared and for a moment, I thought the bag was being stuffed into a trash compactor, the soft smelly walls closing in on me. Breathing became a little bit more difficult, the edge of a claustrophobic panic coming on.

The top of the bag opened up and I poked my head through, breathing deep, desperate for the light!

I noticed Marcus was preoccupied, checking the surroundings for passersby. When he turned his head back in my direction, and came within range, I clopped him on the forehead with a hoof. Not hard enough to cause injury, but hard enough to show this pony was not amused. He reeled back, more in surprise than in pain.

He looked at me in confusion while I stared back in irritation and annoyance. Before saying a word, he looked around once more. The coast must have been clear as he said what I was expecting, "What was that for?"

"For the wall corner, stumbling down the steps, and _elbowing_ me in my ass!" I half-shouted at him, checking off my mental list of his shenanigans. "And I owe you more..." I chuckled, a sardonic smile on my face. "Much more."

He smirked devilishly, "You mad bro?" I could just imagine the popular pixelated troll-face.

I blew him off, trying to squirm my way out of the crushing laundry bag stuffed down at the foot of the passenger seat, feeling like I was struggling against the maw of a predator plant or something. Failing to dislodge myself, I stared back up at him in defeat. "A little help?" I was _not_ going to ride to Ashley's in a damned laundry bag as cargo! I huffed, "Please?"

I blushed as he reached under my arms and lifted me from the bag, feeling very much like a stuffed animal. Half reflexively, I crossed my hind legs in front of my naked self. He noticed this and rolled his eyes. When I was finally set down on the leather seat, it took a moment to find a comfortable sitting position. Marcus waited patiently and buckled me in. Scrunching my mouth in annoyance and in embarrassment, feeling like I was an errant child being buckled in for the family car trip.

Seconds went by, and Marcus reappeared in the driver's seat. He buckled himself in, but the car didn't start right away. I turned in his direction and met his gaze looking at me above the rim of the dark sunglasses, one eyebrow cocked. In my peripheral vision, two more tenants passed by, but that didn't matter since the vehicle windows were just as tinted as the glasses.

"What?" I asked, a hint of apprehension.

"Are you okay?" Marcus asked genuinely, that big brotherly like voice returning.

I had to think about that for a long minute. In less than a day, I had turned into an equine, discovered I had wings, and even more, I wasn't even the same gender any more. Uh oh, fast breathing again. The bag appeared in front of my face, and I scrunched it to my muzzle, deafened by the rapid crunch of the baggy as it grew and shrank, grew and shrank. A moment later, and the spell was gone, returning to normal. I handed the bag back to him, but did not give an answer; putting on my best _ask me that later_ face.

He paused for a moment longer, concern apparent in his face. Before I could say anything more, the engine roared to life and we pulled out of the parking lot, on our way to Ashley's place.

_-***::: o :::***-_

The first five minutes of the car trip went by in silence with neither of us having much to say. Eventually Marcus broke the ice, in such a way I wasn't completely comfortable with, by quizzing me on what was different being a pony. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I started naming off the obvious stuff first. Height difference, walking on four legs, having a _tail_, etcetera. He seemed interested when I started to explain how I was picking things up with hooves or my mouth. Both of us got excited when the subject of my wings came up.

"I wonder just how fast you'll be able to go," Marcus said enthusiastically.

"Yeah!" I replied with a huge grin, watching cars go by us as we drove down the six lane city street. Well, barely. My head only just crested the top of the dash, and therefore the street was cut off from the tops of the cars. Arrugh! Hate being short...

He noticed my downtrodden expression as I tried to peek more over the dash. "Oh, quit being such a miss grumpy pants." I cringed, at both the reference to my lack of clothing _and _at being referred to as a 'miss'.

"Watch it mister," I said, menacingly through a smile. "or you're gonna get bucked so hard."

At first Marcus took the threat for genuine, after all I did bonk him hard on the head, until he saw my smile. Rolling his eyes, he returned his attention to the road. The way I figured it, this wasn't going to get better real soon, so instead of being a 'miss grumpy pants' as Marcus put it, I'd just try and have some fun with it. After all it could have been worse right?... Right?

And now it got worse.

I thumped up and down in my seat, trying to get a better look over the car's dash at the blue and red strobing lights. We were in a neighborhood with large housing, a detour that was often taken to avoid some rush-hour traffic. The road was partially blocked off by two police cruisers and an ambulance, their warning lights flashing but absent the loud sirens. A trio of men in police uniforms stood guard over the area, looking at the SUV as we approached; Marcus stopped and paused, interested in what was going on. To be honest I was too.

At the moment the guards didn't mind that we were loitering some distance away... at least not yet. The fourth officer, seemingly a higher rank, was consoling a woman sobbing her eyes out. Marcus and I shared a look of concern, briefly considering whether or not we should go out and see if there was anything we could do. And I say 'briefly' when my fluttering wings reminded me I was something else now. I sighed and watched on, Marcus looking at me with... what, pity? I hoped not. Too much pity was a bad thing... and was starting to annoy me.

One man in a paramedic uniform exited the door to a nearby house – presumably belonging to the sobbing woman – dragging a wheeled stretcher with a second man in similar uniform following. The body in the cart was strapped down and had many splotches of red all over it. I squinted, trying to get more details, and my eyes went wide as I found what I was only partially expecting.

The body belonged to a pony.

I could only assume he was a normal pony, as I didn't see any indication of wings or anything else out of the ordinary. I nearly slammed my hoof into my face at the thought of 'normal'. It was easy to tell he was a male, because nearly all of his coat was shaved off, and certain... parts... were clearly visible when he occasionally shook in the stretcher's straps. A crazed look in his big eyes said it all: something, likely the sudden transformation, seemed to have driven him mad; or at least that was my guess. The cuts, while they didn't look life-threatening, were bleeding significantly.

That and I recognized them. Whenever I forgot, or neglected, to shave for a few days and the stubble built up, I usually cut myself a few times on accident with the razor, and was rewarded with that and razor bumps. The small angry red bumps accompanying the crimson slices.

A chill ran up my spine as I formulated what had happened. The used-to-be man woke up late in the day to discover he was a pony creature, and for some reason, being covered in a coat triggered him to frantically shave it off. I assumed the crying, hysterical woman was either a relative or maybe his spouse? There was no way to tell, at least for me anyways.

"Whoa," Marcus peered over his shades at the sight, clearly taken aback. "Guess not everyone is handling this thing well." He glanced at me, and I stared back, unaware that my jaw was agape.

"And here I was concerned about being gender-swapped," I said slowly, realizing that my own problems paled in comparison. At least I wasn't driven crazy. Right? Yet? Scary thought. Thinking something else now!

At that moment one of the officers decided enough was enough. He held out his palm in a commanding 'stop' motion as he headed towards us, one of his companions in blue deciding to follow.

"Uh oh," Marcus tensed, looking at incredible unease.

"What are you..." I trailed off, my eyes widening in alarm as the last puzzle piece fell into place. "Marcus. Don't. That's the _last_ thing we need. I need." I pleaded, trying to calm him down. "We haven't done anything wrong."

For a moment I thought he would ignore me and barrel through the officers and trigger an epic car chase. Seeing the emotions play across his eyes was somewhat... unsettling. Finally, he looked at me, and took his hands off the wheel. I released a breath I didn't know I was holding, greatly relieved.

The officer twirled his hand in a vertical circle, motioning to roll down the windows, his other hand resting on the nine millimeter at his waist. That seemed odd to me, but then I remembered his SUV had fully tinted windows, so their suspicious caution was understandable. Still unnerved me though, the thought of getting shot at, or even _shot_, was very unpleasant. Were hospital doctors at all familiar with equine anatomy, or would I have to go to a veterinarian? Another complication for another day.

As the officer approached us, the windows rolled down with a faint mechanical purr. He looked like he was about to deliver the classic 'license and registration please' as he poked his head down to the window... and then he saw me. Clearly he was very suspicious and wary of the orange winged pony-thing as his eyes narrowed in my direction. Looking at the other officer, his reaction was very different, gazing at me in shock. If the situation wasn't so tense, I'd make a snide remark like 'what, you never seen a pony before?', or maybe just an irritated 'what?!'. Instead I smiled nervously at him, and he took an involuntary step back, his hand tightening on the nine millimeter.

"Uh huh," huffed the first officer. "what are you doing with _that_ thing?"

I reeled around and stared at him as though I'd been slapped across the face, and was angry instead of shocked. _What was _that_ supposed to mean!?_ My thoughts bristled. "Excuse me?" My tone said it all. I was not a pleased pony.

He didn't reply to me, and turned his attention back to Marcus, waiting for an answer.

"My _friend_ and I are going to visit another friend," Marcus wasn't happy with the rude comment either and added, "sir." stating the truth in all honesty.

The rude cop cocked an eyebrow, and stared at me while I glared daggers back. His gaze drifted down to the laundry bag, looking suspiciously at me again. What was this, stare rudely at innocent bystanders day? Arrugh!

"Step out of the car please," he stated in his authoritative tone.

Marcus got out, but I hesitated since the SUV was very high set. It was only maybe four feet, but I was no longer a six foot human. I gulped and jumped, landing on all four hooves successfully. I felt the second officer's hands on my back. I jerked away from him, but he looked at me apologetically. I guessed he was trying to steady, or catch, me if I started to fall over. We stared at each other a moment, awkwardness thick.

"Uh," I said tentatively. "thanks?"

The young officer smiled slightly, "Uh, anytime?" and he backed away a few more steps.

_At least one of them has some manners._ I thought condescendingly at the other, older cop.

I was partially grateful that it wasn't me, human, and driving as I heard the first cop give Marcus the third degree. Trotting around the side of the car, I watched, extremely annoyed as my friend was subjected to various DUI tests. Like walking the line straight and touching his nose. The second cop had dutifully followed me, and looked on in confusion as his partner ordered Marcus to do this or do that.

"Sir," the younger officer spoke up finally. "I don't think that that's necessary. I watched them pull up, his driving was fine." I smiled at him as he came to my friend's defense.

The older cop glared at him, then at me (I glared spears back), ignoring common sense and ordered the, apparently lesser ranked, cop to search the vehicle. He tried once to argue, but the other made it abundantly clear that it was an order.

"Jackass," I muttered under my breath, through clenched teeth. Marcus smirked at my comment as the cop patted him down.

Uh oh, what if he decided to pat me down? Don't think I could handle that! I tried to hide the growing blush. Well, where the hell could I possibly hide anything? No pants, no shirt, no problem right? My fears materialized for real as he finished with Marcus and gestured for me to brace against the car's body.

Eyes widened, but I didn't let down my glare. I stood my ground, and he gestured with more force, tapping his black polished shoe against the tarmac. My sneer only increased, but decided to cooperate. The sooner this _jackass_ was done the better, but damn it this felt wrong! Rearing up facing the black SUV, I propped myself up. I saw the younger man's face through the open window as he searched the interior, he looked like he wanted to protest, but thought better of it. Quickly I gave him a weak smile before refocusing my glare at his partner.

He started on each foreleg, from hoof to armpit. Then on the hind legs. Despite my best efforts I couldn't ward off the shakes, this was so embarrassing! Worse, I wasn't even completely sure why! Finally, he finished with all my legs and moved on to my torso. There was a long pause. I glanced back at him and he seemed puzzled. Only one guess why: the wings. I could have spread them for him, made it quicker and easier, but he needed to pay for that comment earlier. He looked to me expectantly, and I shrugged.

He huffed as his gaze intensified, and knelt down behind me. I felt a small triumph that my smaller body made things more uncomfortable for h – oh HELLO!

Lightning shot up from my left side as the officer stretched out the appendage, accompanied by a fierce burning blush on my face. My body grew stiffer than petrified wood as muscles felt like they'd seized up. I could only imagine the startled look on my face, the only indication was that it scared the crap out of the younger officer and he bonked his head on the SUV's roof.

I felt... I felt _violated_ somehow.

Before I could rationally calm down, my brain made that connection with furious response, and I lashed out with a rear hoof and struck the officer in the gut out of pure reflex. After that kick, I jumped several feet away, crouched in a wide stance, my head hung dangerously low. An oncoming breeze told me my wings were outstretched and on display, the furious blush remained as I breathed hard in and out, and a tickling sensation on my belly told me my tail had curled underneath. Maintaining that glare at the doubled over cop.

His partner rushed to his side, apparently not hurt after having hard contact with the SUV ceiling. What just happened? He didn't touch me where I thought he did, so what the hell was that? My gaze softened from furious outrage to confused frustration. I glanced at Marcus, who just stood partially in shock. He seemed to guess at my question and simply shrugged. Slowly I backed out of what must have looked like a combat stance and stood as neutral as I could. I didn't glare this time, instead I looked worried. Yes, very very worried.

The older man coughed and wheezed, the wind clearly knocked out of him. I would have smiled and said 'serves you right! What are you doing with _that thing_ indeed!' but at the moment I was too scared at what was likely to happen. The gravity of what happened hitting me: I'd just assaulted an officer of the law!

Slowly the older cop stood up with the assistance of the younger officer. He looked at me while clutching his gut, confusion and anger apparent. I froze as I saw his hand tighten on the handle of his sidearm, only to be stopped by a second hand belonging to his deputy. Sternly, the younger one whispered something into his ear, and a moment later the hand fell away from the pistol. I released breath that I was holding, and caught my legs.

"I... I'm sorry," I apologized for my assault on him, despite his bastardness. "I didn't mean to hit..." pausing a moment, reconsidering the action I'd taken. "...kick you. I didn't mean to." My voice tone seemed to confuse him, he must have made the connection about my gender. Sure, I'd spoken to him before, but likely the older cop just ignored me because he was focusing on Marcus back in the car.

The sneer softened ever so slightly, hand still rubbing gut. I soon started to worry whether I'd damaged something, but he seemed fine. The least he'd get would be a (horseshoe?) shaped bruise on his stomach. Inwardly I smiled, outwardly I kept my 'I'm sorry' face. I glanced towards the ambulance and the third officer. He was looking in our direction, hand also on pistol, trying to work out what was happening and whether or not to investigate. I wondered which side of the fence he leaned on; being a jackass like the man I'd just kicked, or being like the more polite younger officer. I could live without finding out.

"Right," the older man responded, steely gazed instead of scowling. "just keep _those _to yourself." he warned.

I smiled weakly, maybe he wasn't that bad?

_-***::: o :::***-_

"Or he could be the most evil soul in all of the police force!" I shouted angrily as the two of us continued down the road.

Back at the neighborhood, before leaving us to our own business, the police officer I'd accidentally bucked in the stomach had given Marcus a speeding ticket. A _speeding_ ticket! How the hell does he get away with that!? How can any decent person justify abusing their position as a means of vengeance? Oh, that's _exactly_ what it was! That snidely, contemptuous, dare I say _racist_, bastard wanted revenge for me kicking him! Arrugh! I only regretted not having the presence of mind to aim lower.

I sat there, with my forehooves crossing my chest, fuming my cartoonish head off.

Marcus chuckled, and said evenly. "It's no big deal Sam."

Did I hear that right? _No big deal?_

"It's a _very big deal_!" I spat back, emphasizing the last three words, "The bastard refers to me as a _that thing. S_ubjects you, then me, to an unnecessary pat down. Gets what he deserves, and then has the _gall_ to abuse his authority by giving you a damned _speeding ticket_!" finishing my rant with a frustrated huff, pouting in my seat.

Marcus's lips curled in a frown. He knew I was right, but he was too mild mannered to do anything about it. Sighing, he concentrated on the road.

"Well," I started. "I'm not letting you pay that ticket."

I felt the gaze on me, and without meeting it I replied. "I'll pay for it."

"You can't," Marcus said half matter-of-factly and a tinge of worry. "that ticket is three _hundred_ dollars!" Noting the twinge in his voice, apparently he didn't want to pay it either. "That's way outside your budget Sam." he finished with a concrete, "No."

"You only got that ticket because of _me_," pointing a hoof at him. "and because of whatever that reaction was! I'm not letting you pay... literally... for my mistake!" I finalized.

Relief and disappointment washed over me as Marcus seemed to let the subject drop a little too easily. Damn, I really wanted to argue some more to vent. He was right, and at the same time wrong, when he said I couldn't afford it. Right, because most of my paycheck went towards rent, bills, and what was left for gas and food. Wrong, because I did have some savings, a few thousand dollars, but that was it; which was meant for rainy day stuff, like if the tires needed replacing, or a medical bill or something. A three hundred dollar ticket wouldn't bankrupt me, but it would ensure Raman noodle soup as three squares for a month or two.

If I knew him, he'd pay it off as soon as it'd come in the mail, and I would likely forget. Not if a post-it note on my fridge had anything to do about it! I was gonna give him that money, even if I had to hide it in his microwave.

Devious plans aside, Marcus coughed to catch my attention.

I looked at him as he seemed to struggle with something.

A moment later he asked, "Just what _was_ that reaction back there? That didn't look like a forceful hit or painful jab..." he trailed off and waited for an answer, light apprehension in his voice.

I pondered that question for a good while. What was that indeed? Marcus was right. Recalling the events, the older officer had merely examined the feathery wings. Mentally I felt him stretch out one wing to about half its span, and then that _feeling_ came.

It felt a little like an electric shock, yet, not an electric shock. The feeling was definitely not like when I first jabbed the wing with my hoof, that was certainly the equivalent of a limb falling asleep from partially cut off circulation. That I was familiar with, having significant experience. Not recalling an impact, and not having a bruise, I was fairly certain he didn't assault me with a baton or something. When it happened, embarrassment, exploding anger, and mounting fear had washed in succession through my body; hence the kick that was likely of self-defense.

The only word that came to mind was _arousal_. My eye twitched.

"You know what?" I said finally. "I really don't know." Then voicing some of my own suspicions and describing what I'd felt. Marcus didn't interrupt, save for the occasional nod or a deceptively bored sounding "Uh, huh."

As I finished, and we got stopped by a red light, Marcus scrunched his face in concentrated thought. After a few moments, the light still red, his eyes briefly widened and looked at me again.

I knew that look, and groaned. "What now?"

"I think the wings may be..." he paused, again looking for careful words. "_more _than just wings."

I blinked, not understanding.

Marcus sighed heavily, suddenly fascinated by the glowing crimson traffic signal, and muttered more to himself than to the pony staring quizzically at him. "How to explain?"

I sat and waited... really, what else could I do as passenger? Suddenly reminded why I hated road trips. The SUV lurched forward as the light changed colors, feeling that momentum once more.

"Well," again with the word struggling. "the wings likely have strong, complex muscle groups that have tight knit clusters of nerves. These nerves, being in a part of the body that is relatively thin, could be more sensitive to outside stimuli. And, well..." he paused, worrying me more.

"Go on," I urged. Although I was starting to get bored with the anatomy lesson, I knew this was important, and strained to pay attention.

"Other parts of the body have many groups of nerve endings that cause physical reactions beyond just feeling mildly." He glanced at me a moment, trying to gauge if I had understood that part. And was rewarded with a sigh, realizing he'd have to explain further. "Certain parts that are considered private."

Oh... _Oh! _Okay, that made sense. Kind of.

"So then," I asked. "why was it so very intense then?"

"If I had to guess, I'd say it's because of the gender change," go figure. "the female private parts have twice as many nerve endings than the male's." He explained in doctor's monologue. There'd be no snickering in this medical lecture. "And perhaps that anatomy applies to pegasus wings too." He theorized. Guess his courses in medicine were paying off.

"So, in a way..."

Marcus suddenly turned into a half scowl, "Don't say it..."

"My wings spread out in that way was a..." I paused, enjoying that half scowl evolve into a full one. "...a wingboner?"

Marcus groaned, probably would have face palmed if he wasn't driving.

"Ha!" I elated. Me: one, Marcus: zero.

_-***::: o :::***-_

Finally we had arrived.

The two story house in the semi-ritsy neighborhood belonged to Ashley's parents, and was her current residence. She had finished college, and now had to contend with paying off student loans; her parents being generous, offered up their home while the debts were paid. It made perfect sense, but wouldn't have worked for me, I liked being on my own too much.

I looked over at Marcus, unbuckling his seatbelt and then mine, a partial look of worry on my face. His own concern reflecting mine; even he wasn't sure what was going on with Ash, or how she'd react to me.

Opening and closing his mouth a couple times, trying to find words of encouragement. Finally, he just shrugged. I couldn't help but smile weakly at the attempt; even though he had come up with nothing, it was the thought that counted. Together we made our way to the white-washed door, black rubber shoes next to twice that number in bare orange hooves.

I tried to shy away to the side, halfway hiding in the bush as Marcus rung the chiming doorbell. A major part of me did not want my, albeit failed and hopeless, crush to see me like this. What would she think? What would she do? Would she scream and shout 'monster' at me? All these and worse thoughts swam through my brain, each trying to bubble up to the surface over one another. Beads of sweat developed on my forehead, turning my coat a slightly darker shade of orange for a few moments. Breathing became a little more difficult and a good bit more rapid.

Instead of shoving the crinkled up bag to my face, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him, he had to kneel to avoid slumping over in an awkward position, he had an 'everything will be fine' look on his face. I smiled despite myself, more at him having to kneel than anything for some odd reason. The gesture worked somewhat, heart rate decreasing and breathing became less stressed, as I exited my rear half from the nearby bush.

Glancing to my left, towards the drive way, I was relieved to see that the red sports car, and the black pick up truck that usually accompanied it, were gone. At least Ashley's parents weren't around to complicate matters.

Pointed orange ear twisted back towards the door, dragging my attention away from the empty drive way. There was a kind of clumsy scratching coming from the other side of the door, the metallic pitter of a dead bolt clacking against wood, followed by faint mutters and curses. A voice that, for the most part, resembled Ashley's own – except different in a way I couldn't quite pin. My head swiveled in time to see the door open...

...and for my eyes to pop and jaw to drop.

Oh my...

Before me stood another equine face that was _very _different from the one that appeared in the bathroom mirror. This one's coat was a very light gray, almost the light shade of blue. The mane was a decent bit longer than my own, and was for the most part black; the exception being two stripes of green, one a minty green, and the other a dark green that wouldn't be out of place on army camouflage. The mane and tail matched to a tee as far as color, and were very straight, the former partially obscuring the deep, sharp brown eyes of the equine's worried face.

That wasn't what made my jaw punch a hole through the ground though. It was the spiraling, slender, cone-shaped... what, appendage?... that protruded from the head between the eyes. I stared at it, all manners forgotten.

Why were my wings extending?

Marcus seemed to be the first to recover. "A-Ashley?" Marcus stuttered, probably in as much shock as I.

She didn't bother responding to the large human, and eyes danced over the pegasus mare staring at her – more than once the wide brown eyes lingered on the outstretched wings. Her face screwed up slightly in annoyance, like she was trying to think of something, lips moving like they wanted to make words.

Then, the equine's eyes widened as it hit her, jaws dropping in tandem, "S-Sam!?"

I nodded dumbly.

I already knew what fainting felt like, and now I know what it looks like as the equine's eyes rolled up slightly before closing and the limp legs became gravity's play thing.


	4. Chapter 4

Love and Tolerance

My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic © Hasbro & Lauren Faust

By: TOO S0BER

-***::: Chapter 4 :::***-

Terms

Jealous.

That's what I felt as I took in the spacious kitchen inside Ashley's house. It was at least three times larger than the small cooking space that my apartment offered. Glorious, plentiful counter space with regular sized oven and stove top (the dinky, electric one I had was painfully tiny), and the part that made me pea-green with envy was the island counter top that dominated the central space. I liked to cook, and my small studio made that challengingly difficult. Oh, if I had this kitchen at my disposal...

A snicker caught my attention.

Marcus was sitting in the living room, watching me as I gushed over the fabulous kitchen, a grin covering his face. It happened every time we came to visit Ashley here; I would always gawk over the kitchen, daydreaming of what I would do with it. Ashley would roll her eyes and Marcus would snicker at me – just like he was doing now.

Normally I would playfully flick him the bird, but instead I just blushed. Feeling the heat on my face.

Momentarily I stared at my hooves, reminded of yet another function I'd lost from lack of fingers – not that I flipped people off on a regular basis (with maybe the exception of traffic). Then a chill ran down my spine as I looked around the admittedly awesome kitchen.

How would I cook the same way again without those digits?

_Now that's a depressing thought,_ frowning intensely.

Cooking wasn't a talent that I planned to exploit for a career, but it was damned fun. Making and preparing your own food, eating things that were fresh. I could make soups that would blow the pants off of Campbells. I could make Chinese food that would put restaurants of the same genre to shame. I could accurately guess the recipe of anything by hearing the first hoof full of ingredients – plus the main ingredient of course. There was such satisfaction in it as well, completing that meal after putting forth the effort, and devouring the results! That was the best part.

And as I slumped against the island counter top, the unmistakable pit in my stomach said that I might never be able to do things like that ever again.

"Damn it," I muttered, wiping away the single tear.

I glanced over at Marcus in the adjacent living room. He was sitting on a white leather couch with the equinized, still unconscious, body of Ashley, prone on the next seat over. It had nearly been half an hour since she fainted at the front door. We were both worried, yet relieved.

I thought back to the male pony at the police scene. The way he had injured himself shaving off his coat. As I trotted into the living room, I stared at the long, stiff appendage that stuck out of Ashley's forehead. There was a word for it, but, like several things today, it eluded me. Morbid fantasies of my friend freaking out played across my mind's eye. Ashley using a hammer and chisel, a very scary manic look on her equine face, getting ready to break the spike off. Another of her using a blowtorch to cut it off. Needless to say, all of them ended horribly.

"I guess, maybe, we were lucky?" I asked, still staring at Ashley.

"Yeah," Marcus replied slowly. He had one of his dark skinned hands on one of Ashley's gray hooves, holding it comfortingly. I knew he was thinking along the same lines I was. That Ash may have completely lost it and tried to remove the thing.

Briefly, I wondered if I would have went crazy and tried to saw my wings off if I didn't love the idea of flying. Soaring through the sky, high above the ground and the hundreds of objects affected by gravity, laughing my tail off. Staring at the horn (that's the word!), I wondered what it could do? Was it just for show? I doubted that Ash would know.

"How are you holding up?" Marcus's question shook me from my thoughts, and I had to ask him to repeat as the question just bounced off my inattentive head.

"Uh, fine. I guess." glancing at Ashley and back to him. "I'm just worried about her." gesturing with a hoof. Honestly, I was more than worried. Despite her revealing the sexual orientation that sent me spiraling to the dumps, the feelings I had did not go away. They only receded, becoming a distant, painful reminder.

I tried to recall Ashley's face, her _real_ face, and not the cartoon-ish equine that had replaced it. The image wouldn't come. I furrowed my brow in frustration, concentrating. Nope, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't remember. Then I tried to see my old face, and that drew a blank as well. My eye twitched. It felt like a very different kind of violation. Like a piece of me had been plucked away and thrown in the garbage. I started hyperventilating again, and graciously took the old paper bag, breathing rapidly. One of my eyes twitching every several breaths.

Now I was wondering if I _had_ come out of this sane.

"What's wrong?" Marcus asked in alarm. I had been breathing into the bag for several minutes, repeating that disturbing revelation in my head.

_I can't remember!_ My brain screamed at me. _Her face, mine! I... I..._ The world blurred a little bit as my eyes misted over.

Then my vision snapped to a different part of the house, accompanied by a sharp, stinging pain in my left cheek. Reflexively, I caught myself before I was knocked completely over. The thoughts were jarred from my head, and I immediately snapped my head back to where it had been, just in time to catch Marcus putting his arm back on his lap. I blinked several times, processing what just happened.

"Thanks," I said, flushing slightly. "I needed that."

Marcus smirked, "Oh anytime. It was fun."

I glared and smiled at him at the same time.

A small groan drew both of our attentions.

"She's waking up!" I stated the obvious gleefully.

"Sam, you should hide."

_Huh?_

"B-but why?" I asked sullenly. I wanted to talk to Ash, comfort her if she needed it. She would need to see a... well maybe not familiar face, but a friendly one at least.

"Because," he said, gesturing to Ash as she stirred slightly. "I don't think she's ready to deal with seeing another pony yet. I mean, she _fainted_ when she saw you. She needs to deal with her own thoughts first." Marcus explained pointedly.

Grudgingly, I knew he was right. Ashley's previous reaction was less than reassuring.

I looked sadly at my good friend, feeling my wings flutter a bit, and bowed my head in resignation before trotting behind another couch on the other side of the room. Safely out of sight.

I didn't like this, I _hated _it. I wanted to be there when she woke up, I wanted to be the one holding her hoof with my own. Instead I was lying down like a dog again, hiding behind a couch! For a moment I felt a pang of jealousy directed at Marcus, since I knew he would be holding Ashley's hoof in his hands. _Arrugh!_ The thought of palms with digits attached just made me all the more angry. I rested my head against the back of the comfortable furniture, waiting impatiently.

Calmed down a bit, I recalled my previous thoughts now, somewhat surprised.

That wasn't fair of me. Marcus didn't feel that way about Ashley – I did, and I was pretty sure she didn't feel that way about any man; if for no other reason than because she wasn't _into_ men. I sighed quietly, feeling those ears manipulate against my skull.

"M-Marcus...?" the pointed ears perked up as the conversation began.

"Yeah, I'm here Ash." _I'm here too damn it!_

"I... I thought I heard..." I could almost see Ashley looking around.

"Don't worry about it," _What!?_ "just concentrate on pulling yourself together." I bristled at his previous statement. _Oh you're getting such a clopping!_

"I had the weirdest dream," Ash began telling her story. "I woke up completely... wrong. The doorbell rang and... it was you and this weird pony... creature... thing," I blushed, hard, and shrunk at being referred to as a thing; nearly reminded about that ignoramus cop from before. "with _wings._"

"Yeah," Marcus kept his tone even, not making any of his usual cracks or quips.

"It was terrifying," Ashley continued, her sweet voice trembling. "I'm glad it was only a dream." I winced at that statement. _Oh Ash..._ "I can't imagine being one of those... things. The one I saw was... orange. Can you imagine?" I thumped my head in my hooves. _Okay, maybe not the most stellar color, but I didn't exactly get to choose!_

"Better than gray..." I whispered sullenly to myself.

"What was that?" Ashley's voice spoke up and I froze, listening intently.

"Nothing Ash," Marcus reassured her. I would have grumbled, but didn't dare make another sound... yet.

"Um, okay..." she replied, not sounding fully convinced. "say, have you gotten taller? You seem... _a lot_ taller for some strange reason."

"Uh...Ashley?" I heard a ruffling sound that suggested Marcus shifting in his seat. "It... wasn't a dream. Something's happened, and it's not just you." his tone was full of worry and uncertainty. Ashley remained silent, confusion had gotten the better of her.

Marcus soundly gulped. "That orange equine you saw earlier was..." he paused. What was this, dramatic effect day? "real..." his last word carried a heavy weight.

"I... I don't understand." it sounded more like she simply didn't _want_ to understand.

Marcus sighed heavily and called out, "You can come out now."

I stood up slowly, not really sure I wanted to do this again, and thought of that comforting hand on my shoulder. Everything will work out, one way or another. If that was true, why did I feel so strongly otherwise?

I trotted around the corner with a small smile, trying to keep the rising tension to a minimum.

The gray coated, black maned mare stared blankly at me, and slowly over a period of a few seconds, her eyes widened and pupils shrunk to pinpricks. I tried to move closer, but Marcus discreetly waved at me to stay back. Damn it I wanted to run up and tell her everything was fine. I watched apprehensively, and with quite the heavy heart, as her small petite body started to shake visibly. The beginnings of a breakdown becoming apparent.

"AHHHHHH!" she shrieked, and I covered my ears as quickly as I could.

I wanted to lock myself away, throw the key in a hole, and build an apartment complex over top of it. It was pretty much the reaction I feared; she was screaming in horror at the sight of me. My heart plummeted, on its way to China for sure.

Marcus, one ear clutched by his hand, motioned me back behind the couch. I quickly obeyed, and not long after I did, the shrieking died down to gasps and small screeches between breaths.

"Wha... wh... _what_!?" Ashley stammered between panicked breaths.

"That was Sam," Marcus said plainly.

"_Huh-what!?_"

Marcus didn't reply, but I imagined he nodded glumly.

"I – but,... that..." she paused for long, painful seconds. "_Oh I'm so sorry!_"

Taking that as some sort of cue, I peaked around the couch at her. She had the cutest look of apology on her equinized face, ears dropped back and forehooves up to her mouth. Just like before, I trotted out from behind the couch slowly.

I was at a loss for words. Here it was, calm confrontation, and I had nothing to say. The scream was condemnation enough, even though she apologized earnestly. My heart was still on a one way to China as far as I was concerned.

"Oh I'm so sorry Sam," Ashley apologized again, holding her hooves out to me. "I- I didn't realize... I..." she stammered pathetically, there was probably a thousand things she wanted to say, but the words simply wouldn't come.

I sighed heavily, bowing my head a bit. "It's okay." No it wasn't, but I'd comfort her anyway. I put on my best fake sincerity face, hopefully the super expressive pony face would work to my advantage. It did, Ashley relaxed visibly, but it was apparent that it still bothered her greatly. Nothing got by Marcus though, as he stared at me, I got the feeling he knew I was hurting from it. No matter, as long as Ashley was okay, I would live... even with a heavy heart. A new habit seemed to have developed, as now my wings liked to flutter when I was nervous or uncomfortable.

Ashley gasped, and immediately looked like she regretted it.

I blinked, at first not realizing why she was gasping.

"Sam is also a pegasus," Marcus said casually, then gestured with a hand.

A smile crept across my face, and I showed off the one thing about this ordeal I was actually excited for. As though I was putting on a spectacular show, I slowly spread my wings wide and high, allowing them both to bask in their glory. Marcus had seen them partially before, but even so, his face was priceless as his eyebrows arched and he lowered his sunglasses onto his nose. Ashley's jaw was gaping, blinking several times in disbelief as she stared at the splayed wings.

_Six and a half, maybe seven foot wingspan_.

Blushing, I fought the urge to close them. Damn I'm doing that _a lot_ lately. What is your problem face!?

"Hot damn," Marcus snickered again, "and Sam still likes to show off..."

I gave him a look that definitely supported that statement, seeming to say _You-know-it!_.

Once Ashley manually closed her jaw with a hoof, I decided enough was enough and folded down my glorious wings. The motion was fluid, even smooth, and didn't cause the least bit of discomfort or felt awkward like before. It was a little startling how quickly I had gotten used to this foreign body. What I thought would take, at least, days of diligent practice, was quickly squishing down to less than several hours of time.

"So," Ashley tried to break the ice. "have you flown yet?"

"Nope," I replied, grinning again. "but I will try to soon. Oh, _very_ soon." I couldn't hide my excitement.

"Oh I would like to see that when you do," Ash said, her own enthusiasm building slightly as a weak smile made itself known. I had a feeling she was still trying to make amends for freaking out at my appearance. I hoped this wouldn't become a regular thing, but it seems it might.

Marcus seemed nervous, so I asked, "What's wrong with you?"

"Er-" seems I caught him off guard, he jerked out of his thoughts and nearly dropped the dark shades perched on his nose. "Might want to wait on that. We still don't know how the public will react to... flying pegasus pony mares."

My eye twitched at the word 'mare', reminded _yet again_ that I was gender swapped.

"Mare?" Ashley scrunched her face in confusion, at first looking at something distant in thought. "Mare...?" she looked at me, looking for an answer I was reluctant to give. I nodded _very_ slightly, eyes in another direction towards the tiled floor. "Mare!?" I imagined she was gaping at Marcus now.

I dragged my vision away from the creamy tiled floor to look at them.

The gray, black maned mare that once, and still does, held my heart had that look again. The one that suggested another panic attack. Muzzle open and eyes pinpricked. Marcus just looked awkward. I could imagine the gears grinding in her head, and I recognized that sound: fast breathing associated with hyperventilation, and my still human friend handed the other mare the crumpled brown bag.

Almost five minutes had elapsed by the time she got a hold of her breathing and calmed down.

Since Ashley was in a little bit of denial, we each explained. I told her how I woke up this morning like this, and then Marcus explained our 'discovering' I was no longer male – and he added that the male pony would be called a 'stallion'. After a moment, she blushed for some reason, turned away from us and her head lowered. I thought I heard her sigh in relief before she turned back. Then, impossibly, she blushed _more_.

Before either of us could stop her, Ashley darted away towards her room shouting, "Be-right-back-see-ya-later-bye!"

Marcus and I exchanged looks, and shrugged.

_Mares. _Was I going to be this crazy and dramatic too? Ugh.

_-***::: o :::***-_

We'd been waiting patiently in the living room.

As much time had passed since we had arrived at Ashley's house, I occupied the spot she had vacated next to Marcus. Lounging with my hooves curled underneath me, while the human slouched. I don't handle boredom very well, and I was struggling to stay awake. I tried to occupy my thoughts with why Ashley was acting the way she was, like that weird (yet somehow adorably cute), intense blush from earlier. But more importantly; what was she _doing_ in there!?

His _Sam-is-thinking-again_ senses tingling, Marcus distracted me with chit-chat about the upcoming video game launch. I knew he was dodging the question of whether or not I was actually going to the midnight event, so he asked questions about the game itself. If I thought it was going to be fun or not, had the developers listened to the community or not, and shared speculations on what the campaign would hold based on the trailers and leaked information. It was a long time before the subject matter began to whither and dry up. In a way, I was more excited for the release now, not the least bit disappointed that I likely wouldn't go to the launch the way I was now; but who knows, maybe that'll change.

I sat up on my forehooves and stretched. I glanced at the nearby cuckoo clock on the wall and gawked. "It's been almost an _hour_!" Staring at Marcus, who wore his indifferent casual look. "What the hell is she doing!?" Borderline outrage.

"Well, whatever it is we should just leave her to it." Marcus suggested, ever the patient pseudo-older sibling. Ugh, sometimes he's too saintly and patient.

"Well," I mocked. "I'm going to find out what the deal is..." and with that leaped off the couch-

-and promptly fell on my face, feeling a straining sensation in my rear.

I looked back behind me, Marcus grasping my two-toned brown tail in his hand to prevent me from disturbing Ashley. I broke out in indignation that would make a convicted felon balk, glaring the same daggers at him that I used against that arrogant cop earlier.

"How-how _dare_ you!" I said dangerously, fighting a blush at the fact my naked rear was in the air.

"Just leave her be," he more sternly suggested as I jerked my tail from his grip.

"Marcus," I tried to reason, temporarily forgetting his little stunt as I dusted myself off and stood before him. "what if she's breaking down in there? What if she needs our help? Has that occurred to you?"

"Yes," he replied, scooting the glasses up his nose, then crossed his arms. "and unless we hear a crash, a scream, or crying, we should not disturb her."

I felt more annoyed now than ever. By the time we heard a crash, a scream or crying, it might be too damned late! I relayed this thought to my friend, but he held his ground firmly. I paced quickly back and forth in front of him, glancing occasionally.

I was plotting. I was smaller and faster and had more legs to carry me, and could likely get to the door and, _maybe_, open it before he caught me. But on the other hoof, his two legs were longer, and even though I felt confident in my ability to ru- _gallop_, Marcus still had the body he was born with and therefore had the experience and muscle memory etcetera. _And fingers_, I bitterly remembered, thinking about his grasping my tail. The scenario played in my pony head.

I would say or do something to make him relax. Then, when he was sufficiently off guard, I would dash off to Ashley's room. I would then open the door as quickly as possible; with any luck, I'd garner enough of a head start to get the necessary time to wrestle with the round door knob, and hopefully have enough time to slam and lock the door. I fought the smile creeping along my muzzle as I imagined him beating on the door, and me doing/saying everything to rub it in; including but not limited to chanting '_You mad bro?_'.

Turns out I didn't have to fight that smile for long.

Marcus casually sat forward in his seat, now perched on the very edge, elbows resting on his knees. Casual as hell, he looked at me through those shades and shrugged, as if suggesting he changed positions to get more comfortable. I knew better. That was a preemptive strike pose. Somehow, someway, he knew what I was plotting and countered. I cursed inwardly.

_Damn it!_ Trying to keep an even face. _Why must you be so perceptive!?_

Awkwardly, we stared at each other, daring the other to make the first move. Marcus lifted a hand to his glasses, lowering them to his nose again to look me in the eyes.

_Oh ho ho,_ I thought. _It. Is. On!_

My brain conspired and my mouth moved, "So... thirsty?" tensing.

"No." Marcus deadpanned.

"Are you sure?" I cooed. "Pretty hot outside..."

"I'm good." _Damn it!_ He didn't even _blink_.

I thought for a moment, desperate for an excuse that would succeed in letting me get out of arms reach. _Oh, that _might_ work_...

I stretched briefly, "Well fine, I give." I said. Marcus arched an eyebrow, not buying a single word.

"I may not be able to trick you into wanting a drink," I continued, slowly turning towards the kitchen. My opponent didn't move a muscle, but I imagined he was mentally preparing. "but I actually want some water or something." sincerely.

I walked slow as could be in the direction of the kitchen. Marcus got up to follow. Instead of following directly in my hoofsteps, he went the opposite direction – placing himself between the kitchen and the most direct route to Ashley's room. _Clever girl_.

Well, guess it was now or never to try this. I braced up against the counter top with my forehooves, still watching Marcus and he observed me, and used my dexterous wings to open the cabinet containing the glasses. Smartly, I chose one of the re-usable plastic cups – wouldn't want to break an expensive glass one.

I was almost distracted from my plan at how the wingtips seemed almost as manipulatable as fingers, and had a decent grip. I frowned at the cup.

"Huh," I said evenly. "I wonder if Ash has any soda in the garage?" saying it more to myself to keep the ruse. I watched Marcus shrug through my peripheral vision, trotting to the other exit in the kitchen, leading to the garage. This time he followed behind me, through the cooking room.

Momentarily I was around the corner and out of sight. The way to the garage was to the left, I went right, into the dining room – which had carpet that silenced my hoofsteps. I smirked, unable to control it anymore, and broke into a maddening gallop through the dining room and back into the living room. Once the carpet gave way to the tiled floor though, my hard hooves echoed off the surface. Passing the first entrance, I glanced at Marcus and stuck a tongue out at him as I ran by. _Ha!_

My assumption seemed to be correct. I was the faster and Marcus was lumbering trying to catch up, still recovering from my deception.

I rounded the corner and started to go up the stairs-

-and face planted, _again_, just a few steps up.

_No! _I mentally screamed in frustration, looking back at Marcus as he held my tail for a second time. I was partially relieved that he wasn't standing there like he had caught up without effort. In fact, he didn't; the thing that held my tail wasn't even his hand! It was a long, metal stick with a rubber clamp at the end. And Marcus himself was sprawled on the floor, holding onto the device with a death grip.

"Gotcha!" he stated in triumph. "Really, though, nice try. I give it a..." Marcus feigned like he was giving his next words careful thought. "Eight point five." finishing with a cocky smirk.

I bristled with fury! I was _so_ close I could practically feel the door knob in my hooves! _Arrugh!_

"And. Where. Did. You. Get. _That._" I said between breaths, glaring at him.

By then Marcus picked himself up off the floor, grip still firm on the handle and thus my tail. I wasn't going anywhere. "I snagged it right outside the kitchen," he didn't try to hide the gloating smile. "Figured you'd still try something despite your 'honest' words..."

_Damn his perceptiveness!_

He drew closer and grasped my brown tail with his free hand, and then released the clamp; setting it aside. I tried one last time to break free, lashing out at his arm – and completely missed. The world turned upside down and I felt gravity reverse. Marcus now held me aloft by my tail.

Oh the indignity! I crossed my forehooves and pouted at him as if to say: _Really, did you _really_ just do that? _Curse this tiny, small, short, _useless_ pony body! Arrugh! I'm pretty sure steam was escaping my muzzle as I snorted at his smirk.

"I hate you," I spat evenly.

"I know," smug, devilish smirk apparent. That troll face appeared in my head again... with shades.

"Did I miss something?" we both turned to see a rather distressed looking Ashley-pony staring down at Marcus, still holding me upside down by my tail. "Never mind, I don't want to know." dismissing our strange shenanigans with a hoof. I blushed again, struggling against Marcus's grasp.

"Put me down already!" I yelled at him, flailing.

"Awe, do I have to?" he asked innocently, like a child wanting to keep a lost kitten. "You're so cute when you're mad... and embarrassed."

I froze, feeling that twitch in my eye. "All those times I thought you were my friend," I began. "that was before I learned you were _evil_."

He snickered, I glowered.

_-***::: o :::***-_

"Really?" I asked in disbelief. The three of us had returned to the living room. "That's what you're so concerned about?" Marcus sat next to me on the very same couch while Ashley paced in front of us.

"What do you mean '_really_'?" Ashley reeled, seemingly appalled. "It's nothing short of the _worst. Possible. Thing!_" I rolled my eyes at the over-dramatization. Apparently, the reason she had scurried off to her room was because she was embarrassed about being without clothes; spending the last hour trying to squeeze into old clothing. Since she was still naked, I assumed that she had no success.

A thought occurred to me. How necessary was clothing to ponies anyway? Privates weren't as readily visible on equines as long as they didn't rear and spread too often. What may be visible was concealed pretty effectively by the fur coat. Although, despite this, I wasn't too keen on the idea of trotting the streets naked, or going to work nude. Even so, this seemed a minor problem at best; far less than the crisis Ashley was making of it. Maybe the mare/female brain hadn't fully kicked in yet.

I recalled not minutes ago when Marcus was holding me upside down by my tail. I didn't try to shield myself, far too frustrated by my failed escape attempt. I was certain he wasn't _looking_ or anything; or at least be _better_ not be! Glancing at Marcus with concealed suspicion.

Ash was blushing slightly, "I can't believe how... how _comfortable_ you are with this!" she fumed. "Are you sure you're a wo- _ahem_ a mare?"

"Yes," I muttered, feeling my ears droop. "I'm sure..." dropping my head after finishing the simple answer. She must have been referring to how _not_-subconscious I was being.

This time Ashley didn't look apologetic. For some reason, I felt like everyone was out to get me today. It sucked.

Marcus sat passively when Ashley looked to him for support. I saw him freeze, and then he held his palms up in indifference. Naturally this didn't matter for him, he was clothed and human still. Ashley and I gave him flat looks.

"Hey," he said. "not my fault you two got turned into ponies. And it's not my fault that whoever, or whatever, did it didn't transform your wardrobes... _ladies_." That twitch again.

"Arrugh!" I growled at Marcus as he grinned. "You're enjoying this _way too much_."

"I know," the human replied. Then added more seriously. "but for real, this isn't _that_ major of a problem."

Pricelessly, Ashley's jaw dropped as she now believed she was outnumbered on the issue. I stared at him, eyebrow cocked, waiting for him to continue.

"Sam, isn't your mom a practiced seamstress?" Marcus questioned.

Why didn't I think of that? "Yes she is!" I said, smile growing. "Maybe she can convert some of our old clothes for us, Ash!"

The idea didn't go as well as I had thought. Ashley seemed more unsure now than ever. "But, that would require ruining several outfits..." she bemoaned while nibbling on her hoof tip.

I groaned loudly, "It's either that, or stay naked." another blush broke out across my face at that last statement, and Ashley shot me a _look_. I flailed my hooves defensively, "Not what I meant!" trying to defuse that land mine.

"I am not sure I _want_ to know what you _meant_," she said, eyeballing me. Damn it, the blush grew more! I swear if my eye twitches anymore it's going to pop out of its socket! I knelt on the couch and buried my head in my hooves, feeling very doomed.

Marcus came to my rescue for once. "Sam's right. It's not like the local department store is going to have pony-sized shirts and jeans." ever the voice of reason. Not to mention mine would require special additions due to certain feathery limbs.

I sighed, not wanting to think about visiting family this soon after the... what would this be called? It wasn't an accident, or at least I don't think it was.

"Yo-you mean go outside?" Ashley asked timidly. "Like, _outside_ outside? I can't go in public like... like..." she gestured at her equine body, and I couldn't help but take advantage of the moment to look my crush over. Even as a pony she was so very cute.

Marcus stroked his chin in thought. Then, he gave a wicked smile. _Oh boy_...

"I know that look..." I said warily.

"Then you'll like this even more," he looked at me and gestured at Ashley.

Her beautiful brown eyes narrowed in suspicion, "What?"

A sudden realization swept over me as I realized what he was thinking, and couldn't help but smirk. I turned to gaze at Ash, "Hope you haven't showered yet..."

Her eyes widened instantly at our manic grins. _No Ash, you're not going to like it._


	5. Chapter 5

Love and Tolerance

My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic © Hasbro & Lauren Faust

By: TOO S0BER

-***::: Chapter 5 :::***-

Reunion

"Ugh!" Ashley groaned in the back seat of the car next to me. "That has to be the most _vile_ means of transportation ever!" the gray mare whined, my ears protesting against the constant banter. "How in the world did you put up with that?" she asked, and then sniffed at me, trying to detect whether I as atrocious or not.

We had left the house shortly after. I had walked next to Marcus while he toted a second bag of laundry over his shoulder, with Ashley tucked away inside. The human didn't do anything funny with her bag like he did when carrying me, perturbing me slightly; I let him know by bucking his shin a bit. To which he just smiled that troublemaker smile of his. I could see why it was funny though, and couldn't help but snicker when Ashley started voicing threats of death, doom, and promises of vengeance.

I cocked an annoyed eyebrow at her. "Well whining about it isn't going to help..."

"_Whining?_" Uh oh. "I am not _whining_. I am _complaining_. Do you want to hear whining?"

"No!" Marcus spoke up as he drove his SUV, on our way to my parent's house. "Oh God _please_ no." his silent smirk disappeared at the promise of whining examples. I cringed along with him, once Ashley started going it would be worse than nails on chalkboards! Ugh, I was getting a headache at the mere thought of it.

"No, no! That's okay." I smiled nervously, waving my hooves to dismiss the dreaded demonstrations.

"Hmph," Ashley turned her nose up, very ladylike. "Well maybe you shouldn't be so rude then."

Well, I couldn't help but think she was _kind of_ right. I knew from experience that riding in a bag of dirty laundry was no fun; my nose burned at the thought and I sneezed.

"I wonder if I could convince your mother to add in some designs," Ashley pondered, eyes to the roof and a thoughtful hoof to her chin.

She went on to name countless little details and ideas about fashion that did little more than attempt to tranquilize my brain. Although, the thought of being 'rude' to the person I had affections for, felt like it would be a bad idea, so I focused intensely. I guessed pony ears must be more sensitive than a humans' own, as I didn't have much difficulty hearing her drone on about fashion this or that. It was _listening_ that was difficult.

To assure her that I was paying attention, I nodded when it felt appropriate; the feint of a smile across my muzzle. Every now and then, through sheer instinct and much practice, I threw in a deceptively interested "Uh huh," mixed with an "Oh..."

"That sounds like an excellent idea," I added when she went on describing something for a pair of something else. "maybe we should wait until we get there?" I suggested, trying to steer the conversation away to a possibly more interesting subject.

"Oh very well," Ashley looked downtrodden, and I _almost_ regretted doing that to her. "perhaps you're right. I'll write them down in case she isn't home at the moment..." she paused and looked at her hooves in confusion. She huffed, "Dumb hooves. How am I supposed to write without fingers!?"

I honestly had no idea. Even texting was difficult without the bemoaned digits, recalling how long it took to just type _one_ message on the phone with my nose. Damn it, I felt another sneeze coming on. Hope I'm not sick.

_Achoo!_ Ugh.

My energy felt utterly drained from the sneeze, and I slumped in my car seat, feeling my eyes droop. The adrenaline from recent events must have sapped me more than I thought. Resigning to watch the traffic pass by with the occasional multi-story building swoosh on in the opposing direction. I'm reminded again of why I hated car trips.

Mercifully soon, though, the journey came to an end and I graciously stretched once Marcus's SUV came to a stop on the slanted driveway of my parent's home. The house wasn't as grand as Ashley's, for one it was just one story instead of two, and had less of a front yard. But it was far from a slum. Thanks to a 'housing association' every owner was held responsible for the upkeep of their home, and therefore the neighborhood as a whole always looked nice. Mom and Dad always liked it. Me? I liked the strip mall that was located, literally, around the corner.

The three of us proceeded up the concrete walkway, Ashley praising mother's gardening. The front yard always looked different every few months as my mother always changed the plant scheme when the older vegetation inevitably died. She wasn't a bad gardener, quite the opposite, but the weather here was just _that_ harsh on plants. The gravel yard decorated with a collage of reds, blues, and purples this time from what appeared to be selections of flowers selected with care.

I glanced at the driveway, nearly forgetting to check. The only vehicle that occupied it was Marcus's. My parents must still be at their respective jobs, or maybe just out; hard to tell.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"Oh it's –" Ashley started to say, and then sighed in frustration at her bare hoof. "half past hoof..." Marcus and I snickered.

"It's two twenty three," the human replied, pushing the shades on his nose up further with a finger.

_Hmm, they're probably still in school then, _I thought to myself. _All the better, I don't need any of _his_ shit right now..._

Before leaving my apartment to head to Ashley's, I had Marcus take my set of keys, anticipating that we might come here – since he didn't have a set of his own to get us into their house. He opened the door and playfully bowed. Ash took it in stride and trotted in with her snout held high, feigning snootiness a little _too_ well, me rolling my eyes as I followed; muttering '_smart ass_' at him as I passed.

I yelped as the door suddenly clamped down on my rump.

I sat on the floor, rubbing my flanks with my hooves. "Why you..." I growled at him when he shut the door behind him.

He didn't bother to hide his smirk, but shrugged like he didn't do anything at all.

"You're despicable," I said as I collected myself from the tiled floor. "you know that right."

"Why, Marcus," Ashley said a little too sympathetically. "that's no way to treat a _lady_." I facehooved. And here I was, about to believe she was going to come to my rescue... stupid, stupid me.

"Oh, you're terribly right," Marcus feigned shock, bringing his hands up to his mouth, and I glared at him. "where _are_ my manners!"

"I hate you both," glowering as both of my _good friends_ roared with laughter. My mind thought of gruesome ways to absolutely murder them right now.

"Oh, lighten up _ma'am_," Marcus continued the assault once he could breath again, wiping away a tear of amusement.

"Okay, let's give _Samantha_ a break," Ashley chimed in, gesturing at me with a hoof.

I bristled and blushed, eye threatening to break its socket once again, and I wondered if my wings would take flight of their own accord. The room felt suddenly hot as my fury spread from my face to the rest of my pony body. How dare they make fun of me, after all this bullshit happening right now, how can they make jokes about this!? They didn't care how I felt, as long as they could get a good _laugh_ out of it! Clenching my teeth and eyes simultaneously, I felt my wings open with a _whoosh_.

"At least I don't have a freaky _horn_ on my head!" I shouted through misty eyes, well beyond upset. The chuckling immediately died, and they both stared at me, surprised as hell at my outburst; but I wasn't quite done. "Don't_ ever_ call me Samantha! My name is _Sam,_ God damn it!"

Finishing my rant, still breathing heavily, I stared at Ashley angrily as she stared back in shock. Soon after, the shock faded away and she touched the horn on her head with a hoof, growing more upset by the second at the reminder of her own situation. I glanced at Marcus, who wore a somber expression as he removed his dark sunglasses.

"Sam..." he said low.

"Don't_ Sam_ me," I cut him off. "how can you just make jokes like that! I'm having a hard enough time as it is!" things have gone from bad to worse throughout the day. Surprise after shocking surprise and I was breaking down from it. In the back of my mind I knew their teasing was just light hearted fun, trying to make the best of a bad situation. But honestly, enough was enough.

Marcus pointed a finger in Ashley's direction, and I turned to look.

My anger and fury cooled faster than fresh forged metal in cold water. The girl I loved was crying, her eyes clenched shut as she whimpered loudly. Immediately I felt like a jerk. Whether it was justified or not was irrelevant now. I had upset my friend, my heart on its way to Australia now.

With conscious effort, I folded my wings back down and tried to think of something to say. Marcus strode up to her and knelt, placing his hand on Ash's small shoulder. Despite not requiring my glasses anymore, I felt blind. They were also just trying to deal with this crap too, and I took it too far. The teasing was just trying to alleviate tension. With a cool head, I recalled exactly what was said, and none of it elicited my behavior.

"Ash?" I said quietly, moving a bit closer. Scooting, she turned away from me. I got a look from Marcus. He didn't look angry. Hell, he never looked _truly_ angry; he just looked... annoyed. I felt the sudden urge to lock myself in my room and be denied dinner. "Ash, look..." talking calmly. "I... I didn't mean it. I'm sorry.

"It's just..." I sighed, why couldn't this be easy? "everything that's going on. Waking up, finding all this out... _wayyy_ too quickly, I just got a little stressed, okay? I'm _sorry_." I reiterated my apology sincerely.

Ashley slowly turned her heartbreakingly sad gaze back to me. Wow, what I said really _was_ that bad. For her sake and my own, I smiled weakly. It was only seconds, but it felt like an eternity as my heart was encased in ice, waiting for her response; _any _response. Wouldn't be surprised if she never wanted to speak to me again. Although I desperately hoped that wouldn't be the case, the mere thought chilling to the bone.

"I'm sorry too," _hubazzuwah!? _"I shouldn't have pushed you like that. We've both been turned into these..." she gestured at herself and then at me. "things. I have a horn and you have wings. But..." Ashley paused, as though considering her next words. "you've been... changed in a way that I can scarcely imagine." she was referring to me going from guy, to mare. My ears drooping at the reminder, shoulders slumping.

Marcus sighed and nodded in agreement. "Same here." I nearly fell over, he practically _never_ apologized for his shenanigans. "I took the goofing around a little _too _far. I thought that maybe I could help with _this_ by fooling around." now he looked downtrodden. Suddenly I thought this was confessions anonymous or something.

"Are you sorry for the laundry bag?" I shot him a wry smile.

He caught on quickly. "Let me think about that one..." he smirked, acting as thought it was a tough decision. "Mmmmm, nope." Rolling my eyes, unable to keep from smiling. I glanced at Ashley, she was stifling her own laugh, drying the tears, and I admired her beautiful face. Her wonderful smile melted the ice around my heart.

Silently I vowed to watch my attitude. I wasn't going to let this break me apart from my friends. Truth be told, they may be all I have left, the future of everything else being dismally uncertain. Come hell or high water, I would support them; and my heart warmed further as I realized they would do the same for me.

"_PONY!"_

I half jumped out of my coat at the shrill voice coming from the kitchen. I turned towards the source and was _tackled_ by a yellow blur, the wind knocked from my lungs, forcing a loud _oomph _as the brunt of the impact was weathered by nearby, soft furniture.

I saw stars, and oddly, small cyan pegasi with multicolored manes circling my vision, before blacking out. The last thing I recall was a finger poking me, and a familiar male voice stating, "I think he's dead..."

_-***::: o :::***-_

"Ohmygosh," a young, squeaky voice chanted a little too loudly for my aching head. "ohmygosh, ohmygosh! Are you okay big brother? I'm so sorry!" a small, blond headed girl, hair tied in a ponytail and drooping over her shoulder, stood in my blurry vision, apologizing profusely.

I groaned. "Someone get the number of that linebacker...?" Honestly, I felt more like I was hit by a semi, even though it was a nine year old girl. Damn small pony body!

"I'm sorry!" the little blond schoolgirl, whom was my younger sister, Shelby, reiterated her apology once more. "Please don't be mad!" begging with her puppy eyes – my one weakness when it came to her. How could I stay mad at that face?

"Hello to you too, squirt." I said, smiling at her as I sat up on my make-shift hospital bed (the couch). Disturbingly quickly, the sad face disappeared and was replaced by a crazy huge smile. She jumped in the air and pumped a fist as though to shout _yes!_.

"This is _so awesome!_" Shelby squeed, palms to her small cheeks. "My big brother is a _pony_!" and she laughed that cute little girl laugh. Well, glad to see someone is happy about this... kind of. Marcus sat on the opposing couch with his legs crossed, Ashley next to him, hooves curled underneath; both of them smiling warmly.

"So, you don't seem very surprised Shelby," I cocked an eyebrow at her, still maintaining my grin. "how was school?" trying to change the subject for now.

"Oh, it was okay," smiling widely still. "lots of kids were out sick today though. At least a third of my teacher's class. Dunno about the rest of the school. Even Terry wasn't there." three guesses why Terry, one of Shelby's friends, and the rest of them weren't there. "I hope she isn't sick." I momentarily gazed at Ashley, and she grimaced. If my suspicion was right, then kids were affected too. _Oh boy...yay for another kettle of fish..._

Although it wouldn't be that bad for Terry at least. Shelby and her were best friends; or at least the last time I checked, recalling a lengthy description of a sleepover not more than a month ago. And therefore she would have the support if needed.

"Big brother?" Shelby asked, knocking me from my thoughts about Terry.

"What's up?" I replied, giving her my full attention.

Shelby seemed to be struggling with whatever was on her mind, scuffing her shoes on the floor, hazel eyes shifting. I smiled and placed a hoof on her shoulder, instantly that uncertainly seemed to lift. "Are you..." she paused, searching for the words. "are you still my _brother_, or are you my sister now?"

I fell over on the side of the couch, mentally reeling from the question. Honestly, it _was_ a good question. Mentally, I still thought of myself as a guy; but physically I was the opposite. Matter of fact, how the hell could Shelby even tell the difference anyways?

I asked her how she even knew the difference, and Shelby looked at me, surprised and annoyed.

_Huh?_

"How can you _not_ know?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow at me and frowned.

I didn't answer, sitting there dumbly staring at her. She sighed in annoyance, and made her way to the entertainment system. A few buttons and the screen jumped to life, displaying the main menu to one of the gaming consoles. Deftly, she rummaged through the menus and selected an icon I was quite familiar with: Netflix.

Using the controller, my little sister sorted through the lists upon lists of online stream capable movie titles. Until she found what she was looking for.

"A-ha!" she said smiling, and looked at me. Taking that as cue, I tuned my attention to the TV as one of the selections began to play.

A cheerful, musical beat filled the room as the cartoon picture of a very pink blimp soared above the clouds. I squinted, trying to make out the purple and green creatures moving around inside the balloon's basket. Before I could though, a rainbow smear suddenly drew the camera away. Replacing it was a very colorful, pastel town.

Two things crossed my mind. First, the creature in the blimp, and the others that now pranced and trotted across the screen were ponies. Colorful, pastel, cartoon ponies. Stallions, mares, fillies (how did I know that term?); the whole nine yards.

Second, I've _seen_ this show before; a long time ago, likely before it was even available on Netflix. I didn't actually _watch_ it. My sister had been into cartoons like this for a while, and always begged me to see the new episodes with her on weekends. Again, I cannot say no to those puppy eyes. Ashley smiled at me, probably thinking about how cute it was, thinking I watched shows like that. I glanced at Marcus, and... was that the hint of a smirk on his face? Just over the top of his shades I could barely see his eyes, and they were looking at the playing show, not me or Shelby.

_Odd_, I thought, momentarily ignoring the TV.

Finally the song ended and the title was visible. The title and six ponies, all with very different hair and color schemes, stood smiling underneath the title, like they were posing for a group photo. I guessed they were the main characters or something.

Shelby paused the screen right there, freezing the main title, looking at me expectantly.

"Oh," I said, not wanting to keep her waiting. "I remember now." Well, kind of.

"Oh!" Shelby started again. "Oh, oh! Get off the couch and stand up a minute!"

I looked at her quizzically, and asked what for.

"Ugh, I just need to see something." she said impatiently.

"See wha – _ack!_" before I could finish my question, Shelby flung her arms around my neck and started pulling me off the couch. I don't remember her being this strong!? In three seconds flat, due to the success of the 'surprise' part of the surprise attack, I was already on the tiled floor, flailing in partial panic.

"Hold still already, I can't get a good look..." my little sister pinned me to the floor. How was this possible!? A blush rose from my face, and I looked to my friends for help. Ashley was frozen in shock, but even so, a smile slowly crept on her face, stating the situation as comical (and it kind of was). Marcus looked calm as ever, a neutral expression on his face. Actually, he looked... annoyed? The hell? Like he knew what Shelby was doing and wanted to tell me to 'get it over with'.

_Get _what_ over with!?_

I felt a hand on my wing.

The blush intensified ten fold as a new fear washed over me, shooting my head around in shock. With a great deal of effort, I froze my pegasus body; terrified I might hurt Shelby, remembering the lightning and that bastard of a cop from earlier. The _last_ thing I wanted to do was injure her.

_Okay!_ I thought, desperately trying to keep control. _She probably doesn't know _what_ that area is! She doesn't, she doesn't! Damn it, keep calm!_ Sweat broke out across my brow. _Keep the fuck calm!_ I held my breath, focusing on something else, _anything_ else.

"Awe," Shelby sighed, and I tentatively looked at her. Still frozen stiff, still holding breath. Her still clutching my wing (gently, I noted). "you're a blank flank."

_ Huh?_

At the moment I didn't care about what the ignorant girl called me, saying between gasps. "Can. You. _Please_. Let go. Of my. Wing?" It took her a few moments to realize she was causing me a considerable amount of discomfort before releasing the appendage. As soon as her hand let go, I snapped the wing down tight at my side, and allowed my breath to calm.

I wanted to yell. I wanted to scream at her to _never _touch me there again. Fighting to hold my tongue, I shakily got to my hooves, standing before everyone. Feeling a strange sensation on my back, the kind when you grip something too hard and the knuckles go white, I forcibly released the mental hold I had on my wings; briefly fluttering them to better help feeling return.

I kept my muzzle shut, but let my expression tell the tale I wasn't happy.

Innocent Shelby just looked plain confused... and very worried. I was giving her the feeling that she was in deep trouble. She needed to know, but I couldn't be the one to tell her. I might say something wrong or set the inappropriate tone and make things worse. I motioned for Marcus.

I explained, in whispers, what I wanted him to do and he agreed. Gently, Marcus got Shelby to follow him to the other side of the room, kneeling to be closer to her eye level. Ashley had gotten off the couch and trotted up to me. She wore a mask of intense concern. I must have looked pretty frazzled.

"Blank what now?" she asked. A little surprised that she didn't ask about the wings and the reaction.

"Flank," I said evenly. "Blank flank." I had no idea what that was supposed to mean. Through my still racing thoughts, I twisted my head to look at my rump, lifting the wing to get a better view. There was nothing there on the orange coat that covered me.

Okay, flank was another word of saying 'thigh', or 'backside', I suspected. And blank was, well... blank. So, putting two and two together, Shelby was looking for something that wasn't there to be found. I looked up at the frozen show title ponies, searching their own flanks (something that caused the blush to re-emerge. Arrugh!). Each of them sported a small picture. One, a cyan pegasus, had what looked like a white cloud with a multi-colored lightning bolt. Another with a trio of blue and yellow party balloons. So on and so forth.

What were they? Tattoos? Somehow I doubted it. Putting tattoos in a show for children seemed... wrong somehow. Like it would be very suggestive or something. Yet, the evidence was right there. Recalling several girls back in high school that dressed poorly, many of them had tattoos just above their butts. Definitely suggestive, and I was beginning to suspect the seemingly innocent show.

_Was Ash blank as well?_

I tore my gaze from the TV and craned my head to look at Ashley's flank.

"Uh," she said apprehensively. "what are you doing?"

Impossibly, I completely forgot that that was considered a breach in privacy. Or was it? No clothes and all. Hurriedly I explained that I was looking to see if she had anything on her flank. For once, Ashley's eye twitched, but stood there anyways, looking indignant.

_Hmm, okay, nothing there eith – ow!_

My forehead burned as Ashley brought her hoof back down to the floor. Apparently I must have been staring too long, as she had clopped me on the head. I didn't bother asking, since I already knew, and rubbed my head with a hoof; smiling sheepishly. Caught in the act, but it was worth it.

I glanced over in Shelby's direction. Marcus must have been taking the long and boring approach, taking his time explaining. He must have only recently gotten to the part about the wings being a 'bad place' to touch, as Shelby's cute hazel eyes went wide and she brought her palms up to her mouth. Then proceeded to stare at me in apology. Softening my own gaze, to assure her I wasn't mad.

It was understandable. Shelby and I often playfully wrastled and rough housed. I was glad she wasn't a _girly_ girl, it made her that much more fun. Considering the recent tussle, I'd probably have to get used to not always winning. Come to think of it... was it my imagination or was she just a _bit_ taller than me now...? Yay...

I snorted at the thought, eliciting a cocked eyebrow from Ashley.

_Yep, definitely taller than me_, I thought as Shelby approached. _Damn it._

This felt so wrong! I was the older sibling and she was _taller_ than _me_! Arrugh! Dumb pony body.

"Sorry," Shelby muttered darkly, her eyes on the floor.

I felt like a jerk again. Here I was effing about being short (again), and poor Shelby was beating herself up over what was an innocent accident. Somehow I needed to make it up to her; I didn't want her to be upset over something that really didn't matter. I put my hoof on her shoulder.

"Hey," I said. Balancing on my hind legs (wow, that _feels_ awkward!), I used my other forehoof to lift her chin. "It's okay squirt. I'm not mad." giving her my best grin, and added a peace offering. "How about later I buy you an ice cream?"

That made her happy! Shelby waved off my hooves and began choking the life out of me with a bear hug (carefully avoiding my wings, I noted). It made my heart melt. "Okay, okay!" I coughed and sputtered, chuckling at the same time. Marcus and Ash smiled next to us.

"That's so cute..." Ashley squeed. If that sound had come from anyone else I would have rolled my eyes in disgust, but from her it was somehow adorable. Another blush forming on my face.

"Wow," my little sister said, finally allowing me to breath again. "you're turning red a lot more big brother." and here I was hoping they wouldn't notice. And confound me, it _grew_!

Marcus snickered. "I think we're embarrassing her."

_Thud_.

"Indeed," Ashley chimed in and Shelby laughed at me as I collapsed on the floor.

I sighed deeply and muttered, "I swear you're all evil. _Evil I say!_"

_-***::: o :::***-_

After all the drama, I decided maybe this kid's show could offer some more information. For one, the characters were so very _eerily_ similar in shape, size, and color schemes to Ashley and I. I paid special attention whenever it showed scenes where pegasi were flying, and my eyes were practically glued to the one pegasus known as 'Rainbow Dash'. Inwardly I _squeed_, thinking, hoping I would be able to perform half the stuff she did.

And she seemed pretty damned cute. _Twitch_. Okay, it's one thing to check out Ashley, and another thing to gawk at a fictional cartoon character! Ugh... that had better be the pony brain talking. I _must_ be crazy. That's the only explanation! (I hoped, the alternative was a bit scary).

And second, Shelby insisted we watch the show for reasons I suspected that she just wanted to watch it – which was fine. We came here seeking help from my mother and her sewing skills, and she wasn't here right now. So anything that passed the time was welcome.

"So," Ashley asked after another episode ended, the lyrical credits scrolling. "A cutie mark represents a 'special talent'?"

Shelby nodded, her attention focused on braiding my mane into a ponytail. What? It was a harmless enough request (from her). Besides, she used them puppy eyes on me again when I initially said no. I swear it was a form of cheating powers or something.

Oddly, Marcus stayed quiet as well. I almost expected some kind of input from him, but he just kept his silent attention on the cartoon. Did I want to ask? Did I want to _know_?

"And this..." my crush now asked, gesturing at the horn on her head. "can perform _magic_?" she seemed very skeptical.

Marcus chuckled now, "After what happened, are you _honestly_ going to discount anything? Right now, I wouldn't be surprised if it started raining chocolate milk from cotton candy clouds." _Shelby_ snickered at Marcus's comment. I got the feeling that was an obscure reference to something I was missing, and found myself very confused; my ears drooped and I stared at the ceiling. Would chocolate milk rain cause roof damage? The _hell _did that thought come from?

Ashley just nodded, dismissing the weird comment. I smiled when she tried to stare at her horn, causing her big brown eyes to cross.

_Damn it, why was that so cute and irresistible!?_

I fluttered my wings, deep in thought. If half of the stuff was possible in real life as in the show, being a pegasus was going to be _so awesome_. Walking on clouds, moving them, making thunder and lightning by bucking them. And all that on top of being able to fly, period. (And fly potentially very fast). I doubted the truth behind the 'Sonic Rainboom', and doubted I could perform such a stunt, but it would definitely be something I would try at some point.

I hopped down off the couch and started towards the kitchen. Marcus asked where I was going and I answered, "Yeah, I haven't eaten since I woke up this morning." Kind of weird that I didn't get hungry until just now. I'm usually ravenous in the morning.

I opened the fridge door by curling my hoof around it (the handle was very wide), and began poking my muzzle among the contents, looking for a suitable snack. I had suspicions that Marcus still wanted to go to the movies, and we would likely eat at the food court, but I wanted to make it there alive first! There was a decent amount of leftovers in the fridge, but nothing I was interested in at this time. Feeling an odd craving sensation, I opened the bottom drawer which held the vegetables. My eyes locked on some fresh carrots, snatching a couple immediately.

I closed the door, the carrot tips in my mouth, and froze.

Hidden at first by the open door, I was now face to face with another human. He stood only a head and a half taller than me and wore black, _all black_. Not like a burglar in a cat suit or anything like that, but regular clothing black (jeans, shirt, etcetera). His shoulder length hair and goatee matched his outfit, and on his back was a backpack, a brand name energy drink clutched in his hand as he looked at me, surprised.

We stared at each other for a while, until. "_The fuck!?_"

I winced, not because of the reaction to my appearance, but because he was cursing with Shelby in the next room. And she did not need to hear that sort of language!

"Mpatch mphor mouph!" I scowled, speaking around the carrots in my mouth.

The man recoiled, and his mouth opened a bit, eyes narrowing at me. I could feel the gears turning in his head. Aside from mom and dad, I was the only one that told him to watch his language around Shelby. He mouthed my words, putting the numbers together.

"Sam?" my teenage brother, Dan, replied.

I rolled my eyes and nodded. The energy drink clattered to the floor.


	6. Chapter 6

Love and Tolerance

My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic © Hasbro & Lauren Faust

By: TOO S0BER

-***::: Chapter 6 :::***-

Tolerance

Awkward.

I stared at Dan and he stared back. Me on one couch with Marcus, Ashley and Shelby while he sat on the opposite, likely trying to be as far away as humanly possible while remaining in the house. Judging by the scowl on his face (which he almost always wore, he was what some parents might describe as one of _them_), I could tell that whatever Dan was thinking wasn't good.

I found myself thinking about our relationship as younger and older brother. Things were fine for a while, maybe even _good_, some several years ago; the three of us played and laughed, and shared a bond akin to what my friends and I had now. But as he aged and started into his teenage years, Dan simply became... unbearable. His cynicism grew, as did his obsession with darkness and angst, wallowing in a self-imposed depression. Why? I couldn't comprehend it. Often I pondered whether he thought it made him feel 'cool' or something; like he was too good for the world or maybe even the opposite. Everything he was, and liked, now reflected in everything Dan possessed. Music, clothing, art, just... everything reflected the most undesirable traits in a person.

Dan's lips curled into a half-sneering smile, "This is too rich..." my own frown deepening. "Sam watches girlie ass shows, and becomes one of the stupid characters. Amazing, truly." _Twitch_.

I glanced at Shelby, sitting next to Marcus next to me. Her bright smile had disappeared and she stared at the tiled floor, twiddling her thumbs. Even though I didn't have to worry about her repeating our rude and thoughtless brother's language, I still deeply disapproved. But what could I do? I mean _really_ do? I was older than him, yes, but I wasn't mom or dad; since Dan never listened to me before, he definitely wouldn't now. Before, whenever he got really out of hand (before I moved out), I could somewhat intimidate my younger brother into calming down with my size and muscular build. But now...

"It's not like I chose this Dan," I deadpanned, keeping my gaze steady.

"Oh, I know that." he replied, the insipid smile deepening. "It is just _too_ funny that you're a freak now." Dan explained as though he were demonstrating basic math to a retard.

On guard, I braced myself. I wasn't going to play his little game. Dan wanted a rise from me, to get me upset, angry, whatever. Unfortunately, that's how he got his kicks, making others feel like shit. Mentally I looked at Ashley and Marcus, thinking whether or not Dan had any friends at the high school he attended, with conflicting results. It made me feel sad, despite myself, that he likely didn't have any; or if Dan did, they'd be just as messed up as him.

_Strength in numbers,_ I sighed aloud, letting the world disappear from my gaze for several moments. I felt Marcus' hand on my shoulder. Bless him. Then felt a warm shudder as Ashley's hoof joined it. I thanked them both with a smile. Opening my eyes I looked at each of them. The gray mare to my right wore an apologetic smile, like she wanted to say sorry for every cruel word that dripped from Dan's mouth. Marcus looked stern, grimacing at my little brother; if Marcus was a violent person, I'd think he would have wanted to deck Dan. Honestly, I kind of wanted to... just a little. Instead the man in shades appeared disappointed.

A contemptuous chuckle drew my attention, and gaze, back to the predominately black dressed teenager. "Oh that's _so cute_." Dan spat, mocking a cute voice. "You even let her braid your hair. Adorable." he noticed my mane, the majority that flowed off the back of my head braided into a ponytail.

I heard a sniff a short ways to my left, and my ear twisted towards it, followed by my head as a whole not too long after.

A shadow fell over my eyes as Shelby sniffled softly. Ever since I moved out she's had to deal with Dan. As he got worse and worse, the teasing grew and grew. Whenever I could, I would force him to stop. I'm ashamed to admit that I couldn't prevent a lot of Shelby's tears, instigated by Dan's cruelty. It was impossible to keep an eye on them twenty-four-seven, but I felt that was just a horribly lame excuse.

"I don't care how you talk to me, Dan," I said, feeling my gaze turn more irritated. "but leave little Shelby alone."

"And what are you gonna do about it?" Dan immediately replied, challenging me. The mirth that was in his voice disappeared. "What _can_ you do about it?" that almost sounded like a threat, and I bristled.

"I can imagine that hooves hurt more than fists," my rebuttal, eyes narrowing dangerously. Ashley's hoof applied a little bit more pressure to my right shoulder; but I hardly noticed. I wasn't going to let Dan intimidate me, or let him torture Shelby anymore.

"Oh that's a _riot_." Dan pretended to be shocked, raising a pale palm to his forehead. "Would that mean you hit like a girl too?" _Huh?_

I cocked an eyebrow at him, something not quite clicking.

"If that's your _failed_ girlfriend whats-her-name there," Dan pointed at Ashley next to me. "you look similar enough for me to guess." a shiver ran up my spine, he'd figured it out like Shelby had (well, sort of). I drew up a few mental images of the equinized Ash and me; come to think of it, our figures _were_ very similar. "You're not even a _guy_ anymore are you." it wasn't a question.

I bristled from multiple wounds. The oldest one, Ashley rejecting me, being the more painful by far. I knew I _thought_ I was over it, but was I really? Still, reminded every time we did anything together, anytime I saw her, every time we were together, those feelings would resurface; and the knowledge that they wouldn't be a reality. That old stone came to say hello from my stomach.

"Now see here," Ashley finally joined the conversation. "that is _quite_ enough."

"You haven't changed one bit," Marcus added sourly.

Dan seemed to waver, now that he was outnumbered.

I sighed, but still felt that support from my friends. "Yes, that much is true. I'm no longer a guy." I finished, closing my eyes again. Perhaps this was a good thing. If I wasn't at terms with this yet, then it needed to happen sooner or later; and for this, sooner was better.

The uneasy frown became an annoyed grimace as mocking laughter reached my eardrums. Honestly, it was no surprise, but it brought that blush back to my face as my anger slowly grew. At some point my eyes had opened and I glowered intensely at my other family member. I found myself no longer caring how or why Dan turned out this way, and now all I wanted to do was buck his teeth in for it. Understanding why the misfortunes of others brought him such joy was beyond me; however that wasn't on my mind as I leaped off the couch and hovered just in front of him.

When it donned on Dan that I was now _very_ close to clobbering him from above, the laughter stopped and he stared up at me, sinking a bit into the couch's cushions.

"Nothing to say now smart-mouth? Huh?" I loomed over him, using as threatening a voice as I could. Truth be told though, that was easy. I waited a few moments, and when it became clear that Dan really didn't have anything to say, I added, "Didn't think so..."

A few seconds more and I let myself drop onto the tiled floor with a loud clop.

The first apparent thing was the burning between my shoulder blades, feeling like someone was holding a red hot fireplace poker there, twisting it into me with malice; accompanied by those giant ant things in the fourth Indiana Jones movie. I'd once burned half my hand with hot grease, it hurt like hell, but _this_ was far worse. So much so that it nearly brought tears to my eyes. And I felt immensely tired.

At some point Dan must have thought up something to say, probably misinterpreting my grimacing in physical pain as emotional, and said some snide remark. In truth I didn't hear specifically what he said, but subconsciously it must have been clearer than bells. Recalling the other's faces was the only clue I had to go on. Subconsciously it registered in my head and I reacted. I lashed out with a rear hoof, and connected. This time I was in enough control to intentionally aim low; and Dan's slouching posture gave me a clear target.

I turned back to see the effect.

Dan had closed his legs tight, palms squished between his thighs, clutching the assaulted jewels. His face squinted in a pained grimace, letting it be obvious that he was in intense anguish. With his limbs drawn taught, it didn't take long for him to lean over, and then fall, onto his side on the couch in a fetal position. He groaned softly, a sweat breaking across his brow.

_Serves you right punk_, I thought as I stared, pitiless at him.

That should be the last time he insults a pony when he's standing, or rather sitting, right behind them. I'd been hit in the balls before, and it's no fun. My anger clearing, I _almost_ felt sorry for him, emphasis on almost. Even so, I never balked into a fetal position like he did now. Either he was a virgin to the experience, or hooves _really did_ hurt that much more. It occurred to me only now that I might have injured him more than intended, but that thought quickly expelled; he was already recovering and I took what time was left to quickly trot to the other side of the room, rejoining Marcus and the others.

Over the next sixty seconds or so, Dan had regained his composure enough to sit almost upright. Occasionally, if indignantly, rubbing his crotch. The whole time since he was able to open his eyes, he glared at me and I glared back. Probably should be glad mind-reading wasn't one of the freaky additions of the ponification, because I likely would have been horrified at whatever Dan was thinking right now.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything..." an older female voice drew a twist from my ear, as well as everyone's attention.

In the kitchen doorway that lead to the garage stood an older woman clad in standard black and gray gym clothing, decent in shape, said clothes drenched in sweat. Pink ear buds of an mp3 player in her ears. Long brown hair, matching mine, drawn up in a ponytail, eerily similar steel blue eyes gazing back at us. She surveyed the array of people, contemplating.

Shelby jumped off the couch, rushing by me so quickly that I nearly tipped over, and hugged the woman's legs.

"Mommy!" she shouted, that gleeful smile that I love returning to her face (at least I noticed it when the dizziness wore off). Mom had finally arrived.

_-***::: o :::***-_

She was finally home.

Introductions went by quickly. She recognized Marcus of course, but we had to explain that the gray and orange equines were Ashley and myself. Mom seemed not to believe it at first, Marcus and I tensed, ready to catch her if she started to faint. Luckily that didn't happen. Instead she went into generous host mode and offered everyone drinks while Marcus and I explained everything, starting with me waking up in the morning. Much to my relief, Dan stayed quiet the whole time, sinking into his own little world; even when we got to the part where he came home, omitting the argument that ensued only five minutes ago.

"Quite the interesting tale," Mom sipped on some fresh coffee, digesting everything she'd been told. "well, it could be worse." she finished, then her eyes widened as some thought occurred to her. "You didn't try to _drive_ did you?"

"No!" I answered quickly, waving my forehooves. "No, of course not! I can't even see over the dash, much less work the pedals _at the same time_!"

"Oh, thank the lord," she sighed with relief. "I heard on the radio that there was a lot of car accidents happening around the whole city, and I worried that you may have been in one of them." she downed the last of her coffee as though it were hard liquor, then headed into the living room. I hadn't moved from the floor since she entered the house, and craned my neck to look up at my mother as she stood right in front of me.

She knelt, coming _almost_ to eye level with me.

Mom wore that grimacing worry that crossed her visage every time she thought something bad might happen. I stared into her eyes as they switched back and forth, peering into my own, searching. Was this it? Was this some sort of judgment or conclusion? My heart thumped faster at the thought, scared more now than I had been the whole day. More scared than when Marcus and I were dealing with those police officers. It's funny how parents can have that effect. It was only a few seconds, but it felt like it had dragged on for hours.

Then her gaze softened and became warm. I'd almost missed it when her bare arms wrapped around my neck and the breath I was holding was pushed from my lungs, her hug thrusting me to her chest. Inexplicably I felt my lower lip quivering, and I rested my head on her shoulder, staring down at the white tile with my ears plastered on my head. After a moment longer, I tentatively brought my forehooves around my mother – and winced. They were too short to wrap completely around like they used to be. Instead of being irritated at my shortness, like I had been the rest of the day, I just felt sad. So much had changed.

She pulled away from me, and I immediately felt a sense of abandonment. Until it dawned on me that Mom was still holding me by the shoulders. I sniffled – wait, when did I start crying? I hurriedly tried to wipe the tears away, but she beat me to it, feeling her slender hands on my cheeks. I lacked the strength to look back into her eyes. I was too afraid of what I'd see. Would it be fear of what had happened to her son? Would it be judgment of the fact I _wasn't even her son_ anymore? As odd as it sounded, would she be angry about what happened? I just didn't know – not sure if I even _wanted_ to know. I feared that if I did find out, that it would destroy me. After all, if one couldn't find solace in the love and comfort of their parents, then what was the point of even going on?

Involuntarily I shivered, thinking about the potential of that dark path of thought.

Against my will, a warm hand gently forced my muzzle up from the floor, drawing my eyes. I thought about clenching my eyes shut, not feeling ready for this at all, afraid of what I would see. Curiosity got the better of me, keeping the eyes open. I stared back at Mom's face.

All uncertainty and fear washed away like so much dirt down the shower drain. Mom's kind eyes showed no hint of apprehension, anger, or resentment. In fact, they looked... unchanged; still holding that soul warming kindness that had quieted a crying Shelby so often, years ago. Her smile eased my heart in such a way that only one other had ever done. A hand ran through my mane, eyes still glued to hers, and then Mom spoke.

"This doesn't change anything _Samuel_," her voice soothing. And then I caught the subtle word play on my name (I swear, was everyone able to pick out the gender change!?). Mom used the _male_ connotation, and that reinforced everything, making all the difference in the world to me. "you're still my son, and I still love you," my heart melted, and she finished with. "and I _always_ will."

I smiled, having the forewarning of tears, "Thanks," I choked. "I love you too."

Mom smiled a little more, and then pulled away for good this time. "Now," she said, standing up, still staring at me. "do I want to know what Dan said to deserve a kick in the you-know-where?"

_Thud._

Nothing gets by her. I hate mother radar.

_-***::: o :::***-_

A few minutes later Ashley and I were in the spacious master bedroom that mom and dad both shared. Both of us laid down, side by side with our hooves curled underneath, on the California King sized bed. The room was fairly standard. A pair of dressers, one for each of them, with vanity mirrors propped against the far wall opposite the bed. All along the walls were painted leaves and grape vines; an online purchased decoration that Mom was keen on decorating the house with. The only room that didn't have similar decor was my old room, although I bet that's changed since I moved out some ten months ago. Oak end tables flanked massive bed. An executive desk junked up with a computer and office papers, folders and paper clips sat in the corner. The only thing that really felt out of place was the pair of locked and secured filing cabinets in a corner; holding things related to dad's work. For a little bit, I found my eyes holding over the metal cabinets... and the high tech electronic locks and number pads on them, curious as to what was contained within – and wondering if any of it was relevant to what was happening.

"Ooohh!" a distressed moan dragged my thoughts back to my frantic mother, running this way and that in the master bath and walk in closet. "What did I do with it!?" I almost asked what she was looking for, but stopped myself when I realized I likely wouldn't know where it was... whatever it was.

She paused in the doorway, staring at Ashley and I on the bed, and proclaimed for maybe the tenth time, "You two are so _adorable_!" Ash smiled and nodded with her eyes closed, I blushed and looked at something in the corner – oh look, a dust bunny. As Mom hurriedly continued to scurry this way and that, gathering the materials she needed.

After 'explaining' about the argument between Dan and I, we added in the original reason why we even came here: to see if mother could use her sewing skills to modify the clothing that Marcus used to smuggle us both to the car the first time. She eagerly agreed, and ushered us both to her room. Initially, as I was being shoved through the door, I looked back at Marcus as though to say 'help me!', this was going to be a fashion bore-fest. He just smiled and wave, mouthing the words 'have fun' at me. Curse him. Dan retreated to his 'lair' as we referred to his room.

"A-ha!" Mom exclaimed, coming back with a large, plastic box with latches and handles opening it on the floor. She pulled out a small notepad and tape measure.

Then she asked Ashley and I to stand side by side on the floor, we obliged. Staring hard, her fingers to her chin in thought, Mom began muttering seamstress lingo to herself as her mind processed what needed to be done; likely adding possibility this or idea that. I glanced over at Ashley, and she seemed to be waiting for an opening to express her own ideas. Inwardly I sighed, was it possible to die of boredom? I was certain that would be the case here, as I didn't even like sitting still for haircuts at the barber shop. Ugh.

Minutes went by as mother ran the tape measure over almost every square inch of our equine bodies; she even took measure around my wings and Ashley's horn, sparking conversation that would blessedly pass the time.

"Well I'd say that officer was definitely out of line," Mom agreed as I flexed my left wing back and forth slowly for her. She mentioned something about it being important for the vests and... _blouses_? Please tell me I heard that wrong. Mother went on to mutter about flexible material for stretching, pushing her reading glasses on her nose, jotting down notes.

"Yes he was," I deadpanned, grimacing at the wall.

"And _magic_!" at some point she'd made her way to Ashley, briefly staring at the horn on her gray head. "I can hardly believe it."

"I am still not sure I do," Ashley said, again making her eyes go cross from trying to stare at the bony appendage. I struggled and failed to stifle a laugh – then winced as mother thwacked my forehead. Now Ash laughed. No fair!

"Hold still you," was her excuse as she stretched out my foreleg, taking measurements.

Another few minutes and dozens of measurements and notes later, Mom appeared to finally be done as she stood back up to her full height. Tapping the pencil against her lip, she then began scribbling who-knows-what, again muttering fashioner nonsense to herself.

"Well that ought to do it ladies..." mom paused and looked at me apologetically. "sorry..."

I just rolled my eyes and shrugged, giving her a wan smile. Which she returned warmly.

"All right then," she continued as though it didn't even happen. "I have your measurements, and at least a little bit of both of your clothing. I'm certain I can create something smashing; or at the very least convert the old rags in a few days."

_A few days!?_ Wow, that would be great! I voiced as much and she smiled. I turned to leave, satisfied. "Thank you so much!" I reared and hugged her as high as my tiny body allowed. Stupid short shortness!

"I also have many ideas for some new outfits for you..." she said with a mirthful grin. Should I be worried? I think I should, since I can't read minds.

Ashley now chimed in, "Oh, I have some too! We must discuss!" I playfully gagged and they both practically shoved me out of the room.

"Well," I said, faking indignity as the door slammed behind me. "I _never_." It was a good laugh, I could hear them both snickering through the door, and totally worth it.

I trotted my way back over to Marcus, whom had been busy braiding Shelby's hair into a ponytail matching mine. I cocked an eyebrow at him, mildly surprised; he just shrugged, made what I guess was supposed to be a puppy dog face, and rolled his eyes. Oh, I see, works on you too huh. Must be cheating little sister powers, it has to be.

My ear twisted towards the other end of the house to the steady beats of rock. Dan was playing his music loud again. I certainly didn't miss that little detail when I moved out. It was always annoying, and I had no doubt he would get hearing damage; I liked mine loud too, but not _that_ loud, and with headphones so as to respect other people's tranquility. Unfortunately not everyone has the same taste in music. I briefly thought about jumping on him about it, then working my way towards an apology for that low blow. However, something in my head said that would be a bad idea. Likely he was still fuming over it, and only seemed calm because mother was now home and he'd have to watch himself. It's a shame that it took the presence of one of our two parents to make him do that, instead of doing it automatically himself.

Even the rambunctious little sister was more mature than the emotional teenager. It was still a ways off, but I hoped that Shelby wouldn't turn into another Dan. I doubt anyone could take _two_ of them. With that thought, my gaze turned back to the little blond headed girl. She smiled and waved playfully at me, which I returned.

"Aaaand, done," Marcus proclaimed, finishing that last braid of the ponytail.

"Thank you!" Shelby squealed, already playing with it. She ran away, launching herself into dad's big easy chair that was way too over sized for her, and continued watching the cartoon show.

"Hey Marcus," I whispered, turning towards the human now. "got a sec?"

"What's up bud?" he leaned down in his seat, coming close to me, peering over the rim of his shades giving his full attention.

"You still want to go to the movies, right?" I asked.

He blinked a couple times, considering the suggestion he had made _before_ learning either of his friends were transformed into ponies. Marcus scrunched his lips and brow into a frown, mulling this over before asking, "Are you sure you and Ash would want to?"

I nodded. Really, I couldn't just go hide under a rock. Sure, the immediate introductions were done. Friends know I'm a pony? Check. Family knows I'm a pony? Partial check (dad still doesn't know). And work would come soon enough. After those few days were up, everyone would already know about the, apparently worldwide, event. Who knows, maybe a number of my co-workers were transformed too. Besides, those carrots were starting to wear off and I owed Shelby an ice cream; the last thing I wanted to do was incur her wrath, remembering that tackle from earlier!

"I'm sure I want to," I emphasized. "I'll ask Ashley when she gets done. But what I wanted to ask you..." I paused, and stared over at Shelby as she kicked her feet, watching the cartoon obliviously. "... is if we can take Shelby with us."

Marcus cocked an eyebrow, unsure what to think of this. He asked simply, "Why?"

"Because," I explained. "she needs some time away from Dan. Did you see how she got all quiet when he came home? And how she was upset? Also I'm worried that when we leave, he'll take out that crotch shot on her." giving him my concerned face, glancing over my shoulder again at Shelby. "It wouldn't be the first time..." I added darkly.

It didn't take long for Marcus to deliberate, as he almost immediately said, "Sure. But I guess that means we can't see that R-rated movie you've been waiting for..."

R-rated what? What was he... oh.

That blush returned and felt like it extended down to my wings! That, and I'm sure my pupils shrank. "S-Shut up!" glowering at my trouble maker friend. There was no R-rated movie I was interested in, he was pulling my leg.

I know of I've said this before, but I swear he is _evil_.

_-***::: o :::***-_

It took longer than expected, but Ashley finally got everything sorted out with mother on the ideas she would like to see done. Mom must have been happy about it too, since she looked eager to get started as the four of us departed in Marcus's SUV, heading for the mall and the movies. Despite feeling rather confident, I still had some apprehension about going into public. If Ashley hadn't been equinized like me, I probably would have said outright _no_, too terrified to set hoof out the door. But since that wasn't the case, everything felt pretty good.

Getting there was quite the challenge though. Just like Mom had mentioned earlier, there was practically a car crash at every intersection. Detours here, detour there, reroute here and everywhere! It was starting to wear on Marcus, the frustration building by granules in the usually calm African American. Fairly soon, we were a little lost, all three of us trying to figure out where the hell we were and which direction we needed to go. I nearly facehooved when I remembered that my smart phone had GPS, so we pulled over and I handed (would that be hoofed?) over the phone to him, describing where the program was.

With the automated voice of the GPS guiding us back to the light, everything calmed down significantly. The constantly updating traffic watch kept us clear of all the crash sites. I counted them as we passed. Before too long the number jumped into the double digits, quickly becoming dozens and scores. Most were just minor fender benders, unlikely to so much as break a nail; but others looked exceedingly bad. Cars so indented that they looked like some monster had taken a massive chomp out of the side, other cars were squished almost in half by the forces at play, and there was even one multi-car pile up. I grimaced at the possible number of dead and/or injured. And this was all over the country? Or even better, _the world_? Needless to say, I stopped counting.

I decided we needed more information, and switched on the radio. There was no way this wasn't going to be top line news for _days_ at least.

"... and now for some updates!" the radio broadcaster announced. Good, if I heard him say 'music' I probably would have screamed. "It seems like these freaky pony things have popped up everywhere. From Las Angeles to New York, Seattle to Tallahassee, _they are everywhere_." I didn't like this guy's tone on how he was presenting the situation. He was making it out like it was _our_ fault. "Initial estimates place the transformed at twelve percent... _minimum_. Some sources claim that it's as high as twenty five, but honestly I find that hard to believe.

"And if that's not food for thought, what about the economy?" that _was_ a good point. I perked my ears to listen, and Ashley poked her head between the seats to listen further. "Many of the ponified, yes that's right, they're ponies, like from that little girl's show..." _facehoof_. "... have been let go from their jobs as they are unable to perform. As a result, everything everywhere is understaffed. Many are protesting the actions, feeling like they weren't even given a chance to try and keep their jobs, calling it 'discriminatory' and other such nonsense..." I bristled, how is that '_nonsense_'? I really didn't like this guy. For a moment I wondered if CNN had forced that pony anchor – _mare _– to quit. Somehow I doubted they would fire her. Being transformed like that didn't seem to impair her ability to speak, and that's all broadcasters do is talk, occasionally shuffling papers.

"Although I cannot imagine why," the radioman continued. "there are some employers whom are giving the freaks a chance." okay, so some people aren't being completely heartless. That's good. Now if only this guy would stop being such a prick. I contemplated retrieving my phone and calling the station, demanding to know how this guy could be so negative about this, but decided to ultimately let it drop. He wasn't worth the effort.

"And most aren't even _normal_ ponies, as if that were a plus," that tone was eating at me, I could feel it. "there seems to be three, even four, different kinds. Some of them have wings, called '_pegasi_', and others have, get this, _horns_ on their heads." Ashley shied away from the radio, sitting back in her seat. "They're called '_unicorns_'. Good luck fitting in freaks." I could have sworn smoke was exiting my ears as I willed the radio to explode in his face.

"That's it!" I fumed, punching the power on/off button a little harder than I should have. "There's _got_ to be a regulation or law or _something_ against talking like that over _national_ radio!" my chest heaved, snorting through my nostrils.

"That guy is just a big meanie pants," Shelby added in, pouting in her seat. "he shouldn't be so mean." I smiled at her, completely agreeing.

I glanced over at Ashley, whom was just staring absent-mindedly outside the car window. I thought about saying something to try and comfort her, but what could I say that would help? The damned radio had just announced to the _world_ that she was a freak! Literally! Actually, me too matter of fact, but right now I was too mad to care. But poor Ash looked like she might break down in tears.

Marcus focused on driving, trying his best to keep us out of the casualty listing, but even so his face for an intense grimace. Hopefully, the radioman's words wouldn't poison people's minds too much. The world had enough racism and problems _before_ this, it didn't need anymore.

Of course, the hell did I know? People flock to idiots like him on the radio, as though they were allowing themselves to get poisoned. I gritted my teeth, thinking about the future while staring at the anomalous lightning-bolt shaped thing in the sky. Things couldn't possibly get worse, right? But even as I thought that thought, I must have contracted some of Dan's cynicism. For as I sat in my seat, still fuming over the recent announcements, I thought: _people are stupid_.

Arrugh! Suddenly I felt like I needed a drink.

The car trip didn't last much longer, but it went on in silence. We got lucky and managed to get a parking spot near the front entrance to the food court. Already I could smell the plethora of food coming from the doors and the nearby pub restaurant. And now my stomach decided to speak up, demanding sustenance. Marcus helped Ashley and Shelby out of the SUV, while I had a little practice and confidence at just jumping out; again successfully landing on all four hooves, even if it was a little jarring. I bet I could use my wings as a form of parachute to soften the landing. Have to remember that for next time.

We were maybe in the parking lot for possibly two minutes before we saw another soul in the sea of cars parked in the sun, their owners clustered somewhere inside the mall doing who knows what. A couple of teenagers looked in our direction, and just stared. They were too far away to pick out the features specifically, but I had a feeling it wasn't anything good.

_Great,_ I thought, rolling my eyes. _Here for less than five minutes, and already garnering stares. Absolutely _wonderful_._

I'm sure this trip will go _swimmingly_.


	7. Chapter 7

Love and Tolerance

My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic © Hasbro & Lauren Faust

By: TOO S0BER

-***::: Chapter 7 :::***-

Public

Empty.

The mall that my friends and I frequented was practically empty. Sure, there were still dozens upon dozens of people around, bustling around the stores and stalls, going about their business. The huge cavern of a room that encompassed the food court, and the front door to the movie theater, made those crowds seem small and sparse. Which was pretty odd, considering it was mid-November, and everyone should be shopping for the holidays. Truthfully, I was glad that there weren't hordes of people; it would mean less stares.

I was kind of hoping that there'd be more ponified people here. If for nothing else than to make the situation less... awkward. As it was, it seemed Ashley and I were the only ones... immediately visible anyways. Perhaps there were more further inside.

I was also glad that the chaos of what was happening hadn't affected the restaurants being open. At least some of the employees showed up for work.

_Yay!_

I liked this mall. It had lots of stores, a theater, etcetera; but the _best_ part was the food court. It had so many dang choices! Sub sandwiches, fries and burgers, to Mexican and Chinese dishes. Just about anything for everything for every possible taste bud. And that made it a certain percentage cooler for it. The plethora of smells crossed my muzzle...

...and oddly, some of it made me _sick_.

Not literally, but the wave of nausea that followed was confoundedly horrible; and very confusing. I've been here dozens of times, probably _hundreds_, and never had this kind of problem. In fact, I had eaten at every single one of these fast food joints at least a couple of times; even the oriental place, despite my not being crazy about Chinese food. That, and I felt this sensation earlier when Marcus had raided my fridge for food, a tub of chicken fried rice.

I glanced over at Ashley, and noted the slight green that permeated her gray face. She must have been feeling the same nausea I was. Marcus looked unchanged, and hadn't yet noticed our queasiness; and Shelby was looking this way and that at the stores, even eying a nearby toy shop (three guesses why). If not for my loudly protesting stomach, I would have suggested skipping lunch.

"You two okay?" Aaand now he did.

"Ugh," I said, groaning and lowering my head, as if doing so would put my nose underneath the stench. "I don't know..."

"I feel it too..." Ashley chimed in, covering her nose with a hoof. A method I already knew to be futile. "It's odd though," she continued. "the place doesn't smell any different... yet... I get the feeling like I'm sniffing a garbage can. Ugh!" the unicorn groaned, rearing her head in disgust.

I had the same sentiment, "Well, let's try to at least find something to eat." Surely there must be _something_ here that was edible.

The three of us spread out in different directions, with Shelby tagging along with the remaining human, but not before getting our money from Marcus; whom was in charge of my wallet and Ashley's purse, since we couldn't really carry or sift through the contents. I asked for a ten, not really planning on stuffing my face with much more than that, holding the folded bill in a wingtip. Again the appendage's flexibility and dexterity surprised me. Clasping the tiny paper _almost_, but not quite, like fingers. For one, the feathers (while articulate) didn't have any sensation of feeling like digits did. My eye twitched, and I couldn't help but think my wings were pretty weird now.

To avoid drawing attention, I folded the wing back down, swallowing the ten from sight.

Trotting from restaurant to restaurant, I weighed my options while trying to pin down the reason behind the mysterious sickening. I walked by one of the Chinese places, the smell of orange chicken, steaming rice and fried beef assaulting me. I gagged, quickly walking away before chunks started flying. Catching what breath I could, I headed for another option. A popular fast food joint that was found as commonplace as Starbucks; MacDonald's.

_Again_ I was nearly knocked out of my socks by the horrid, fetid stench. Oh wait, not wearing any... derp, followed by a hoof to the face. That place was never my favorite, but there wasn't anything on the menu that could make me sick. So why was this happening? Standing as straight as I could, I glanced over the counter and observed the kitchen, trying to be as stealthy as can be. As far as I could tell, there was nothing abnormal or weird going on; the two employees both working. One was manning the register, attending to a customer while the other was flipping patties on a flat top.

My eyes locked on the sizzling brown discs, and my vision doubled. Suddenly their odor wafted up my snout like a fly on a mission in an outhouse. I nearly fell as my legs went rubbery, barely catching myself. The scent even felt like it was _burning_ my nostrils!

_Ugh..._

Again, recoiling, I backed away from the scene. Okay. Roasted chicken, fried beef, and hamburger patties all gave me a case of the green face. But was it meat or processed stuff? Fried or baked? It could have been a dozen different things, and I had to learn more. This time I visited a restaurant of very different caliber: Subway. In fast food terms, it was as organic as it could get. They put _exactly _what you wanted on it, and did it right in front of you. As far as I could tell, there wasn't any time or room for shenanigans; not like with frozen patties or chicken.

My hunger redoubled when I approached, and... was it just me or did the lettuce, tomatoes and other sliced, fresh vegetables look... exceptionally good? I blinked, not sure what to make of this sudden interest... no, _obsession_... with the eye-poppingly vivid greens. I trotted a bit closer, and while the smell was slightly overpowered by the other restaurants, it was still clearly palpable. No nausea appeared, my stomach didn't lurch (in fact it _growled_), and there was simply no sign of any illness whatsoever. Basically, I felt now how I should have been feeling the whole time.

Although the sliced meats garnered a form of nausea, it was magnitudes smaller, since they were cold cuts and not actively cooking. Thus easily ignorable.

I blinked again, frowning and cocking an eyebrow. Weird didn't begin to explain it. Having one more suspicion, I trotted away towards the restaurant I frequented the most. It was an off-brand Italian place that served mainly pizza and pasta, but also had meat dishes, like lasagna, and chicken parmesan. The scent of melted cheese and baked bread wafted up my nose, with only a _slight_ hint of meat. In truth, the herbs and seasonings pretty much dominated the scape of the smells in the vicinity.

Hmm, okay. I reared up on the glass and took a closer peak at the buffet of food. Eying each dish, I examined my body's reactions to each. The salad trays, as suspected, garnered the same hungry reaction from Subway. The pizzas with vegetable or no toppings had the same result, as well as pastas and sauces. The lasagna and spaghetti was another matter, making my stomach lurch once more.

_So then_, I though to myself. _It's meat? Meat makes me react like that?_ I huffed, not liking this train of thought. _So unfair_...

As I was lamenting the fact that I may have to become vegetarian (groan), a cough caught my attention. I looked up, and a round service woman wearing a black employee apron, with the restaurant's logo stenciled on the chest, staring at me. She blinked several times as she stood there, frozen.

I gazed back, and so did she. The woman, probably in her mid-twenties, was someone I was partially acquainted to, because I was a frequent customer. Still didn't know her name, but we recognized each other; when I was human anyways. The stare down must have gone on for a few minutes, as I caught a small crowd of people joining in to look at the orange pegasus pony at the pizza place in my peripheral vision. Well, best break the ice... I still had a stomach to satiate!

"Uh," I said, and she almost jumped when I spoke. "I'd like a slice of cheese pizza and a soda..." I gave my order, and added, "please?" trying to smile, but not awkwardly so. Probably failed hard at that.

After a moment, she snapped out of her trance and placed one cardboard thin slice of cheesy heaven into the oven to reheat. I moved down to the register while she readied the soda, unfolding my left wing to get the ten ready. My ear tingled, and I took a glance around while waiting for my order.

More people, a _lot_ more, had gathered in the proximity of the restaurant I was getting food from. I blushed, feeling my pointed ears mash against my skull. Even my tail pressed on my behind a bit. I felt like those dozens of pairs of eyes pressing in on me, an ease of claustrophobia encroaching on my mind, and a sweat broke across my brow. Damn it body! _Stop it_!

"What?" The cashier woman spoke up, speaking loudly enough for the crowd to hear. "Never seen anyone order plain cheese before?" she challenged, and I snapped out of my stage fright to look at her. She seemed annoyed, not liking what was going on at all. I furtively glanced back at the crowd, and the people began to disperse, slowly but surely. Still, many others stared at me, heedless of the service woman's words. Eventually though, they too went back to their business, occasionally returning that gaze to me.

"Some people..." the cashier said, shaking her head ruefully. "will that be all ma'am?" _Twitch_. How does everyone keep doing that!?

"Er, yeah..." I said. "thanks for um... that..." I gestured a hoof towards the area where the crowd once occupied. I unfolded my wing when she announced the total. She hesitated on taking the money when she realized it was a feathery wing 'handing' the bill to her, but quickly recovered.

Working the buttons, she said plainly, "Eh, no problem..." then she looked at me kind of strange. "you seem oddly... familiar."

"Uh..." I said, glancing around the room a bit nervously. "I, er, came here numerous times before. I always ordered the same thing..." I shrugged.

"Oh!" She smacked a palm on her forehead. "Plain cheese and a soda, sometimes gets baked ziti and marinara, duh!" she laughed. "_Now_ I recognize you."

I smiled at that. It was nice to know that some people were not behaving all weird and rude at the sight of me. That initial shock doesn't really count, but what does is how people act _after_ that same shock had worn off. And, I squinted at the name tag, _Tina _it read, had passed with flying colors.

"Wait a minute..." she squinted at me, processing something within her brain. "If you are, who I think you are, why does your voice... sound... like..." slowly she trailed off, and her eyes widened again.

She blushed, the facts donning on her. I blushed, and turned my eyes another direction. "Yeah, let's let that drop. Right there." I said flatly, embarrassment thick. She stared for a moment longer, then it must have occurred to Tina that she was being just as rude as the crowd she had scolded earlier, then found a task to occupy her attention. Okay, so maybe not flying colors, but she made a good effort.

"So, am I the first you've seen?" I asked as she busied herself with a fresh pizza, desiring conversation to distract my thoughts.

"Eh, yeah actually." Tina responded, acting as though the previous discussion never happened. Not surprising, my guess being that most ponified people were likely staying home or were somewhere else seeking help or something. "So, what are you?"

I balked, feeling like I was a little insulted... and actually was.

My expression must have been obvious (because I let it), as her eyes widened a bit, and she quickly amended, "No, what I mean is, you're not a regular horse." and she gestured at my wings.

"Pegasus," I stated simply, relieved that she didn't mean what I _thought_ she meant. That would have been... bad.

"Makes sense," Tina shrugged. "and so that one is a..." she paused, wrinkling her nose. I followed her eyes, and saw Ashley a little ways down. She was looking back and forth between the Subway and another restaurant whose sign was obscured from me.

"Unicorn," I said. "see the horn?" gesturing with a hoof.

She paused visibly, then a small smile creased her lips, "Neat."

Another few seconds and Tina pulled the pizza slice from the oven, delicious steam now pouring from the top; my mouth watered at the sight. She handed me the bill change, and I gave her back half as a tip and a thank you for helping with that crowd. Initially she tried to downplay that kind act and hand me the money, but I insisted.

Tina presented me with the tray, setting it on the counter.

I stared at the red plastic, not sure how to approach my latest conundrum. I could try and use my wings, just like how I 'grasped' the cup at Ashley's, but were they strong enough to handle the weight? I wasn't sure, and didn't want to make a mess. Tina cocked an eyebrow at me, I guessed I had been staring at the tray for some time, and she asked if everything was okay. I nodded, explaining that I was just trying to figure out how to pick up the rectangle that held my food.

"Why don't you use your mouth?" Tina suggested.

Wow, that was... actually a pretty good idea. I smiled and she nudged the tray slightly over the edge. "Thanks, hehe." I chomped down on the slightly curved edge, nearly toppling the half that held the soda, evening it out before the beverage could tilt too much.

_Phew._

Slowly I pivoted around, my jaw was already locking up due to the unaccustomed weight, eager to search for a seat. There was certainly no shortage of choices. Booths, tables with chairs and hybrids in between (tables that had one side with a couch like bench and the other side chairs). I saw one empty four seat booth that looked inviting, and started (carefully) trotting towards it...

...when it was snagged by some teenager wearing a decent amount of black denim attire.

_Oh, well okay then,_ I thought, thinking nothing of it. _There's plenty of other seats._

Looking around the court once more, I headed for one of the couch/chair hybrids. Once I sat down I would wave over Ash and Marcus...

My thoughts were interrupted when another young person, this one lacking a jacket, but looked very similar to the previous teen in black. I nearly lost balance when he rushed by and snatched up the seat. By some miracle the soda stayed perched on the tray, and I waited for my heart rate to decline from the surprise.

I righted myself and turned my attention to the punk that nearly shoved me to the ground to grab the table. He wore a contemptuous smirk on his face and tried to look at me out of the corners of his eyes, half-trying not to be noticed. I glanced back at the first guy, whom I paid no attention to at first, and he wore a similar expression; watching me 'discreetly'.

_Oookie dokie then..._ I thought, cocking an eyebrow in his direction, not sure what was going on. Yet, I had an idea and I did not like it one bit.

Something fishy is going on here. There were plenty of seats to choose from, but that seemed to be beside the point. I doubted that it was coincidence that _both_ of them were going for the same sitting spots I was. Especially since they were dressed similarly, like they thought they were in a gang or something. Most likely they were just some punks that thought it was cool. For a moment I wondered if they were associated with my younger brother. It would make a crazy kind of sense.

The fiery ache in my jaw steered my attention back to the matter at ha – hoof (still not used to this); I needed to find a seat and set this _heavy_ tray down!

Maybe it was time for a test. This time I headed for a relatively remote table, switching my eyes between the two thieves from before. Just as I suspected, they followed me with their gaze, now no longer attempting to hide the contemptuous smirks on their faces. Uh huh, they were screwing with me, and apparently didn't like a pony being in, probably what they perceived as, _their_ mall.

A third figure, similar in clothing but perhaps a head shorter, darted around a corner and snagged the seat I was heading for as I got close. I huffed around the plastic tray in my mouth and bristled, feeling my feathers ruffle. This was ridiculous! What's the point in doing that? I wanted to believe that they simply played that little prank on everyone, that it was just a bit of fun, and that I wasn't a 'special circumstance', but something just nagged otherwise at me as the anger built in my face.

_Ugh, _I thought, utterly annoyed; which was quickly building to outrage. I really, _really_, hoped this was just a passing thing and not something that was going to be permanent and on a daily basis. No amount of awesomeness garnered by flying would alleviate dealing with _this_ kind of stuff constantly...

Still having some patience, I decided to try one last time for a table. After that... well I didn't really know what.

This table was another of the bench and chair hybrids, and seemed to be the closest to me while having a decent bit of distance from the trio of troublemakers. I knew I could beat those punks to the table, if I didn't have a tray of food to balance in my mouth. After all, I had four legs and they only had two (legs I was quickly becoming adept at using). This time I kept my ears at attention, listening for the tell tale sounds of movement, and was rewarded by hearing the sound of a chair screech as it was scooted back in a hurry. The first punk was making his way quickly to the bench/chair table, and I was about to pick up my pace. Even so he arrived well before I did...

When Marcus slid into the bench right as the punk was about to sit down, causing him to stagger.

"Sorry," he said half-apologetically. I imagined that he had been observing the whole shenanigan. "seat's taken bro." he added casually with a smirk. After that he waved me over, and Ashley trotted up with a blue tray in her mouth, followed by Shelby.

I tried to smile around the tray, which proved difficult, trotting over to the table and finally setting down the heavy thing. My jaw sighed in relief. I had never before appreciated just how much a large soda weighed before now! That and just how much I missed my fingers.

I climbed into the chair as Shelby joined next to me, Marcus and Ashley sat on the bench half across from us. It took me a moment to realize the punk was still standing there, dumbstruck by the foiling of their little game. Luckily his comrades had, for whatever reason, decided not to join in – yet.

"Wait, you're hanging out with these freaks?" he waved a jacketed hand at the two ponies sitting with the pair of humans. Ashley and I glared at him, but he paid us no mind, focusing on the African American. Marcus paused, just inches from taking the first bite of a triple decker burger.

"Problem?" Marcus _smiled_, and added with a slight tone of annoyance. "_Bro?_"

"No, but there's going to be." the punk threatened, and I saw his friends exit their seats. As they drew closer, the punk spat out an insult that made my ears burn and my jaw drop. A certain insult that pertained to Marcus and only Marcus. How _dare_ he!? Instinctively I turned towards Shelby and ordered her to cover her ears. Thankfully the little girl obeyed without question, realizing the tension of the situation.

I knew that cupping her ears would do little, but I'll be damned if I let her innocence be ruined at the _mall_ by a group of _punks_. Sure, innocence didn't last forever. Not in this world, but again, I'm going to make sure Shelby kept it as long as time allowed.

Now I was about to put this _jerk_ in his place – when my chair suddenly lurched half an inch. I whipped around to stare at Marcus, and he was still smiling. _How can he be okay with this!?_

By now the other two had closed the distance and stood with their asshole of a friend. By the way they were standing, I assumed he was the defacto leader. Marcus had that _look_ on his face; the one in his eyes that said 'I am not amused'... but with a smile on it. It confused the hell out of me. How could he be okay with what this guy was calling him? From what I was taught, that word was one of the worst things you could call someone like Marcus.

"Well, if there is a _problem_," Marcus started, speaking slowly but evenly. "you can take it up with my complaint department. Here's what you do. Write it on a napkin, take it to the bathroom and leave it in one of the porcelain bowls." he smirked, and added finally, "And I'll get to it when I give a crap."

_Oh, you just got told! _I portrayed a sly smile. Marcus caught my stare, and winked at me. For some odd reason that made me blush. Ashley snickered, but at what I couldn't tell. I hoped it was the man's snarky comment and not the unreasonable emotions I was displaying.

I glanced back at the punk, and oh he was _blistering_. I guessed he never had anyone bold enough to tell him off before, as he seethed with barely controlled rage. He looked down at me with murder in his eyes. Inwardly I balked a bit, but kept up a steely glare on the outside. Yes I was intimidated, but I sure as hell wasn't going to let _him_ know that.

"Is there a problem here?" A new, deep and gruff voice stated with authority. All of us turned to see a large, balding man with a mustache and a long sleeved white shirt that bore the golden badge of a police officer – no, wait, not a policeman, but a mall security guard. He had his massive arms crossed as his iron gaze switched from person to person – and pony – with his stare lingering on Ashley and I. However, as those eyes landed on the equines, they didn't change; after a moment he entered into a stare down with leader punk.

"No sir," Marcus replied cheerily.

"No," the punk huffed.

"Uh huh," the mall cop sounded unconvinced with both of them. Then cocked an eyebrow at the kid, "I heard the whole exchange," he revealed. Really? How? I could barely hear anything over the background noise throughout the food court. Maybe working in this area day in and day out made him immune. "and I _saw_ what you were doing."

Punk's eyes widened and my grin grew. He'd actually seen their little shenanigans with the tables! _Yes!_ I take back everything I've ever said about cops being lazy and never being there when they were needed!

"I... that was... we were just..." he stammered, trying to come up with some excuse. Mall cop huffed and held up a meaty palm to stop him, not taking any of his crap.

"You were disrupting patrons of this mall," he said flatly, yet with a surprising amount authority as he listed off their crimes. "causing a scene, and picking a fight. I'm going to have to ask you and your friends to exit the mall." he finished.

At that moment a couple more figures in similar uniforms approached, younger and slimmer officers who looked ready for a confrontation. It donned on me that maybe the bigger cop had called for back up. Smart. Obviously he was a veteran of dealing with stuff just like this.

Punk and his friends looked mad, but they shrank under the array of authority that now faced them. They gave a last look at the four of us, still seated at the table, and slowly departed. None of us spoke as we watched the three walk away and exit through the doors. Super size mall cop sighed, and dismissed his fellow officers, whom resumed their previous duties, and then turned to us with a hint of a smile.

"Apologies for that folks," he said, placing his hands on his wide hips.

"Not a problem officer." Marcus replied nonchalantly.

He glanced over us, even the ponies, with expression unchanged. "You lot frequent here?" he asked.

Marcus and I nodded in response.

Mall cop nodded a few times and took out a notepad and pen. He jotted something down and handed it to my friend, explaining. "I work morning to late afternoon shift. That, is my cell number. If you all ever have problems again – especially with those three – give me a call or text, and I'll come running." he finished with his generous offer, and added, "Name's Paul Blonk, Mall Cop."

That name rang a strange bell with me, and I had to ask. "I feel like I know you."

He stared at me again, "Oh? That right?" he paused, and I got the feeling like he wanted to say the same, but... yeah.

"I come here often for midnight launches."

"Oh I see," he said after a moment. "one of the gamers eh? Which one, if ya don't mind me asking? I'm familiar with most of the regulars since usually I volunteer, or get volunteered, for those shifts."

"Sam," I replied.

Paul mulled that around in his head a moment, then smiled. "Ah, I see." then his face scrunched in confusion. "Wait a minute... I thought Sam was a..." he trailed off when I stared flatly at him, my ears pasted back.

"Oh, uh..." he coughed awkwardly. "well, you folks enjoy your meal, and have fun..." and with that he quickly walked away to patrol the halls.

_Ugh_, I groaned, the other snickered at my expense. _It just gets better and better..._

_-***::: o :::***-_

The four of us sat, enjoying our meal. That seemed to be a chore in and of itself. Sipping the soda was made easy thanks to the straw, but the slice of pizza was another story. They didn't call it finger food for nothing. That, and I didn't really want to handle the food with what was essentially my feet. I'm no neat freak or germaphobe, but even I knew that would have been unsanitary.

I was okay with touching the paper plate with my hooves, manipulating it to point the edge of the slice towards one side, and using my muzzle to nudge the slice over a bit. Once the tip was sufficiently exposed, I bent down and bit off the end, chewing the cheesy goodness. The process was fairly slow, every couple of bites I would have to stop and maneuver again until the slice got wider to allow more chomps.

Unfortunately for Ashley, she wasn't able to mimic these movements, and stared at the six inch sub sandwich and plastic bowl containing a salad. Attempting to copy my moves had limited success with the sandwich, but the salad still defied her. She stared at it, frustrated, probably wishing for the return of her fingers as I had been doing all damned day.

"You can use telekinesis," Marcus suggested after downing the latest chomp of his burger. I groaned silently. How can he eat that!? I paused as I realized that that was the vegetarian pony speaking, recalling that I too once enjoyed the same food. Arrugh!

"Hey, yeah!" Shelby chimed in, grinning widely. She seemed excited at the prospect of finally seeing some true blue magic. I was still skeptical though.

Ashley jerked out of her trance to stare at Marcus, "I don't know if I can..."

"Just try," I encouraged. While I still had doubts, I had to admit that I was curious as well. "surely it can't be _that_ hard can it?" I smiled, gesturing with a hoof.

Marcus and Shelby seemed unsure. I asked why, trying to make a point that that one unicorn in the show was able to perform all kinds of tricks, like teleporting and levitating items many times her weight and/or size.

"Uh yeah," Shelby said uneasily. "Twilight went to a school to learn that stuff. And before that she studied magic in books... _a lot_." Oh, that made sense. "And she was Celestia's student..." Celestia who?I didn't pay _that_ much attention to the show. What little I did was focused on the pegasi and not... whoever Celestia was. I asked who that was, and both Shelby and Marcus face palmed.

Okay, I expected that from Shelby, but _Marcus_? Again, was this something I wanted to know?

"She's the ruler of Equestria," Shelby intervened. When I stared blankly at her, she huffed and added. "the land where they all live? Duh." rolling her eyes.

"Okay, well, anyways," Marcus turned his attention to Ashley as Shelby started to give me a lesson in girl cartoon history – help! I could feel the anesthesia in my brain. "focus on feeling the horn on your head."

Ashley nodded and squinted her eyes shut to better concentrate.

"Now, imagine the fork," the man said, and I got the impression that he was giving an art lesson. "every point, every curve. Imagine what it feels like, what it weighs. Picture it in your mind as though you were looking at it with your own eyes."

The unicorn grimaced, concentrating on developing the image. Once or twice she peaked at the plastic utensil, garnering more details from it.

"Okay," Marcus continued his Zen-like instructions as I chomped down on the pizza some more, interest growing. "now imagine that you are 'wrapping' the fork in a napkin."

With that, Ashley's forehead broke out into a sweat. She held a breath, cheeks puffing out, and her brows furrowed further and – was that a _spark_!? Suddenly nothing else mattered and I stared intensely at the horn's tip, determined to catch that detail a second time should it re-appear.

There it was again! A small spark, not much larger than a crumb, that fizzled out from the very tip, lasting for only a split second. And was it just me, or did it seem slightly... glittery? Okay.

"Hmmm," Marcus pondered the next step, and I pondered how he knew to provide such instruction. "maybe imagine that you _are_ holding it in your hand."

"I'm..." Ashley winced, her voice straining. "trying..."

The unicorn's face began to change colors from the effort, her teeth grit and small gray body trembling. It appeared that nothing was happening, as the fork still sat serenely on the plastic tray. Then I glanced up from the still fork, and I thought something in my pizza was undercooked, as I caught the _slightest_ yellow glow surrounding Ashley's horn.

My jaw dropped when the small light also enveloped the fork. Everything in my mind screamed at me that this was _impossible_, yet it was undoubtedly happening right in front of me! I glanced at Shelby, and her reaction couldn't have been more opposite of mine. She was beaming, staring in awe at the display as though she were observing a talented magician – which in a way she was.

"Good!" Marcus spoke up. "Now, imagine that you are picking it up... slowly, carefully."

I gawked as the small plastic utensil _lifted_ slightly off the table. It was only a few centimeters, but it had definitely left the tray, defying gravity and every rule of physics that I only partially paid attention to in high school. This was beyond amazing, beyond belief! She was _doing it_! First time ever and she was _levitating a fork_! Never before had I ever been so interested in a ubiquitous utensil than right now.

In mid air, the fork began to tremble.

"Agh!" Ashley panted, the strain evidently becoming too much. Around her horn there was an explosion followed by a hissing pop. The yellow glow around her forehead, and the fork, dissipated immediately; the plastic utensil clattering down on the tray – falling a mere distance of two inches.

_Thud_.

I tore my gaze away from the now not-interesting fork. Ashley had collapsed her head onto the tray, breathing rapidly like she'd just galloped ten miles. Her tongue even lulled out as her eyes appeared glazed over. From her horn there was the slightest trail of something that looked like steam, or cigarette smoke.

"Ashley?" I said, rearing up with my hooves on the table. "Ashley!" I shouted again, leaning closer to her face. She didn't respond. My blood ran cold and my ears pointed back, nervous sweat accumulated on my own brow. Oh my god, was she hurt!? I knew she wasn't dead, her body still heaved from her breathing. Worry etched across my face and permeated every corner of my mind, numerous possibilities raced in my thoughts at what had potentially happened; I thought maybe she had gone comatose or something. I repeated her name once more...

...and was rewarded by her eyes squinting shut, acknowledging my attention. "Do... you mind... keeping your... voice down?" Ashley said between pants. I sighed with relief, collapsing back down into my chair. She'd be okay, or at least as far as I could tell.

"That was – " Shelby shouted, then when Ashley winced, she adjusted that to a whisper. "That was so _awesome_! You almost had it!"

"Indeed," Marcus said smugly, crossing his arms. "just need to practice is all. Develop your... magic muscles." he quoted with his fingers.

"Magic feels like a hangover..." Ashley deadpanned, I imagined her head must have been throbbing intensely. Her breathing had slowed significantly, but didn't appear to have the strength to lift her head up yet. She adjusted her head and stared longingly at the salad, and then I heard the _loudest_ stomach growl ever, which made me jump. Apparently magic was also greatly exhausting.

Frowning, I tried to think of something to do to help. Anything for her...

I reached over to Ashley's tray and snatched up the fork with a wingtip. I poked at the salad, impaling a bites worth, and floated it to her muzzle. She stared at it, and then at me, and smiled warmly. "Thank you," and bit down on the green food.

"Anytime," I smiled back, my heart fluttering. Damn me if that blush appears!

Thankfully it didn't rear its ugly head... on my head. Ugh.

The male human and I exchanged seats, so I could better finish feeding Ashley her salad, Marcus cutting up the sub sandwich into smaller, bite-sized portions. Even Shelby helped, standing by with the straw of the unicorn's drink, directing the tube to the tired mare's mouth when requested.

"Oh," Ashley distressed. "I feel like an infant..."

I stared at her and cocked an eyebrow, Marcus doing the same.

"There's no shame in accepting help when you need it," Marcus said comfortingly. Shelby and I simultaneously nodded in agreement. Despite this, it didn't appear to make her feel much better, as she stared at the tray beneath. I couldn't help but think the same way. Losing one's independence is, well, it sucks. I don't know what'd I would do if I lost the apartment and had to move back in with the folks... especially now. Of course this was no where near the same thing, but the principle was similar enough.

Random and only semi-related thoughts aside, the food seemed to be rapidly recovering Ashley's strength. With effort, she managed to sit up straight, staring at the now used fork.

"I know it must only weigh an ounce or two," she stated, staring at the small utensil. "but I swear it felt like it weighed as much as a _boxcar_."

"Don't worry about it," I spoke up. "like Marcus said, you just need to practice." I was still very impressed with what little she was able to do. The possibilities with just telekinesis alone were mind boggling. In a way, she now has something that could potentially surpass fingers by a _long_ shot. Again, if half the stuff from that kid show was true, Ashley might be able to pull off absolutely incredible things! If I didn't have these wings, I would have felt _extremely_ jealous. Okay, maybe I still felt jealous... just a little.

We all sat there for several minutes longer to give Ashley more time to recover. When she felt confident enough to walk without collapsing on the floor, we headed off towards the movie theater. The whole time Ashley and I garnered stares from people as we made our way to the counter, but at this point I started to not care. Well, that wasn't completely true, and not for the reason I was a pony.

Even with the promise of rapid clothing delivery, it was still a few days away... at least. And of course here and now is what mattered, and here and now I was essentially naked. I sighed, and decided to just try not thinking about it. It proved more difficult than it sounded, every breeze by my fur coat gave me a little bit of the shivers. In the desert we don't have much of a winter, and the mall had the air condition going. Hmm, that may be one advantage, would be easier to stay warm... or I could die during the summer months... ugh. Not looking forward to that.

"So," Marcus spoke up as we stood just outside the queuing line. "what shall we see?"

The movie board held several dozen titles on it, showing off up to five different show times for each entry. I gazed at the selection, and honestly, didn't see anything I was crazy to watch. For whatever reason this holiday season just didn't have anything good out this year. So I voiced that I didn't really care what we saw. We would have to see something kid appropriate, since Shelby would be with us, but there didn't seem to be much of anything rated above PG-13 (true Shelby wasn't thirteen yet, but usually such movies had something of an overblown rating anyways). The MPAA, in my opinion, was too sensitive when it came to age ratings.

"What about 'The Hobbit'?" Shelby suggested, still finishing up her soda.

That kind of surprised me. Mom and Dad let her watch Lord of the Rings? Undoubtedly puppy eyes must have been involved when she initially asked. But then again, I'd seen Lord of the Rings and they didn't have anything beyond some gore and fantasy violence, so I could (maybe) see them allowing my little sister to see it. I chuckled as I thought about how many times I had snuck out, defying the parental laws. Living close to a movie rental store allowed me to easily smuggle less-than-age-appropriate titles when I was younger.

I listened, and no one seemed to have any other suggestions or objections.

So with that we purchased our tickets and made our way upstairs.

_-***::: o :::***-_

Stairs. Right.

Why the hell didn't this mall have escalators? That would have been so much easier than trying to navigate up the individual steps with barely familiar four legs. Arrugh!

Marcus, out of kindness, had offered to carry us up the several flights. Ashley politely declined, while I stared at the human like he was crazy; I still had my dignity (despite walking around in public essentially naked).

I sighed as I looked at the first flight of maybe a dozen or so steps. _Okay, _I thought, trying to get my hooves to stop trembling. _You can do this... you can do this, it's only stairs._ Stepping up on the first step, then reached up with the opposite forehoof, landing on the one above it. And now it gets awkward. I examined my hoofing, trying to figure out which rear hoof to elevate next. Right or left? I chose left, and brought that hoof up to its left side cousin. It felt intensely awkward, like my body wasn't meant to do that or something.

Raising my left forehoof again, and placed it another step up; aaand now I was unceremoniously stretched on the flight. Why was this so _hard_! I groaned, realizing I forgot all about the fourth leg, which was still perched on the ground level. Yeah, it would help to move _that_ one too. After maybe a moment, I tentatively got the pattern down.

Chancing a look around, I saw Marcus and my little sister waiting (semi) patiently at the top of the first flight of three. Turning, I went to see how Ashley was fairing, and expected her to be at the bottom still – but was surprised when she trotted right past me! Apparently, for some cheating reason, this was a lot easier for her as she ascended each step at a reasonable pace. Even though it was a moderate climb, my friend left me in the dust.

_Damn it!_ I clenched my teeth. It felt like a challenge. And I didn't like to lose! Of course it wasn't a race, but even so...

_Wait a minute..._ I paused, the sudden thought occurring to my brain. _Why don't I just fly up? I don't have these wings for just show after all_. That manic grin reappearing on my muzzle.

First of all, I checked the clearance between the floor and the ceiling – the last thing I wanted was to kamikaze right into the roof. Second, I scanned the top of the stairs; since the mall, and by default the theater as well, wasn't busy, there weren't very many patrons exiting at the moment. Again, I wanted to avoid crashing right into some poor chump that was just trying to leave for the day. That would be bad news bears right there. Briefly I recalled Shelby's linebacker tackle back at the parent's home. Although I doubted that my small pegasus body would have much of an impact on a full grown human, unlike the nine year old girl versus pony.

Unfolding the wings, I evened myself out on the stairs best I could, straightening for take off. Okay, now to flap. I conjured up every mental image of birds I could from my mind, as well as the brief show time of the pegasi from the kid's show. Slowly, I worked the wings several times, just to work out the motions. The first time I did this, it was in a fit of rage at Dan for... whatever he'd said back home, but I still remembered the way it felt.

Once more I closed my eyes to better concentrate on the task at hoof, but not before checking one last time that the coast was clear. Satisfied, I blinded myself to the world.

Tensing, the wings moved up and down. Letting them curl upwards into the air, before going taught as they thrust back down towards the ground, gaining speed and momentum; the tips of the feathers were felt brushing the standardized carpet of the stairs. No altitude was gained yet, and I intensified my flapping. An artificial wind was blowing weakly across my coat, and pressure began to subside from my hooves. The slight noise associated with flapping was now softly playing in my eardrums, escalated with my efforts. Yet, I _still_ hadn't left the ground.

With each rapid cycle of the wings, that same burning sensation from before started to seep into my shoulder blades. I grit my teeth, certain that sweat must have been accumulating on my brow, not about to give up. Not yet. I still wasn't _completely_ sure this would work; that first flight had been under impulse, rage and reflex. Would I have to repeat those same circumstances for this to work? I hoped not. Against my better judgment, which was telling me to quit now, I turned up the power some more.

This time I was rewarded with a weightless vertigo as I felt the world disappear beneath me, and gravity become nullified. Reflexively, my hooves tried to gain purchase on the ground that was no longer there. I opened my eyes to witness. Just as suspected, I now hovered just a foot above the staircase, no longer connected to the ground as everything else was.

_Yes! Yes! YES!_

"Haha!" I laughed out loud in my changed voice (wow, that _laugh_), grinning from ear to ear. I likely drew more stares from what few people that were around, but I didn't care in the slightest; _I was flying!_

Well, hovering technically, but that still counted in my book! I hadn't felt this kind of joy in forever. A dream had come true from something that was a freaky accident. All the depressing and confused feelings were thrown out the window at this wonderful discovery. Oh I was so glad right now to be a pegasus! Ashley can keep her horn and fancy magic shenanigans, I'll take these wings any day! Oh the possibilities. I might not even require a car anymore; especially since I couldn't see over the damned dash anyways.

While I was caught up in my reverie, some subconscious instinct took over and the wings kept me aloft while I was distracted. It took a moment for my intense panting and the growing sweat on my brow to register. Flying was still very new, and like Ashley, I would need to develop those muscles which are completely foreign and new. Which meant I would have to hurry before what strength I had left disappeared completely.

Okay, now how to go forward?

I metaphorically sat there and hovered mid air while I tried to dig up thoughts on how to proceed. Helicopters gained their forward momentum by tilting their rotors, thereby changing the direction of air flow, thrusting the vehicle forward. Perhaps the same applied to angling a pegasi's body? To confirm, I conjured up a few images from the show, and if memory served, those winged ponies used the same idea. In theory this should totally work. If not, well, then I'll have to slowly brave the mountains of stairs.

_Okay_, I stared forward and lowered my head, thrusting my rear up slightly, shifting my center of balance...

… and started moving forward slowly, picking up bits of speed as the seconds passed by. It was working! The higher staircases loomed up ahead, but I was somewhat ready for this problem, and further increased my flapping. As expected, my altitude grew, and colliding with the flights of stairs was no longer a problem. Within no time I was already at the top of the stairs...

… and going a _lot_ faster than I was prepared for! I neglected to consider the brakes! Eep!

Panicking at the sudden influx of speed and height, I flailed my hooves at the wall decorated with large signs advertising various feature films yet to be released, and collided with the massive, flat form of a man wearing red armor with a gold trim, holding out a hand with a glowing circle in the center.

_Oof!_ I grunted as I smacked the hard wall. For just a moment my body hung their, flattened against the surface in a comical manner. Slowly I felt myself peel off as gravity resumed control, and again that weightless vertigo ensnared me, except this time it was free fall. I was already feeling the exhaustion from flying up here, and didn't have the energy to try and right myself.

I expected to land hard on the carpeted floor, but instead impacted something far softer that gave way to my tiny falling body. My muscles, especially those that resided between the shoulders, ached furiously. Alight with a burning fire that could probably put an expensive grill to shame, with more of those ant-like tingling sensations spreading across the feather wings.

"Ohhhh," I groan weakly, still splayed out on the... whatever I landed on. I opened my suddenly tired eyes, and stared. My torso and hooves were unceremoniously splayed and elevated on a dark, cloth-like form of one of the bean bag chairs that served as lobby furniture. The poster I had crashed into was advertising one of the Iron Man sequels – ironic, since Tony crashed at least once in when he first flew the suits. And here I was, flying for the first time and crashing almost immediately after.

I chuckled despite the aching pain, "Woohoo..." I said meekly. A few seconds later, two humans and a gray unicorn entered my dizzy vision.

"You okay?" the larger one with dark skin asked.

"That was so cool!" the youngest one gleefully shouted, and I cringed. My head hurt.

"Not so loud..." I whispered, feeling my brain complain. "please?"

The unicorn, sensing I was okay, just rolled her brown eyes.

"Maybe a little less crashing next time," the unicorn suggested, smirking at me. "eh dare devil?"

I held up a hoof, intending to 'thumbs up' the pony, oblivious at the fact that I lacked thumbs. "Will do..." I groaned again and tried to sit up, pegasus body refusing. I made it up maybe an inch before collapsing back down into the beanie chair.

"I think..." I say through strained breaths. "maybe I'll take that... 'carry me' offer now..." Truth be told, I doubted I could walk right now. And besides, who needs dignity...

Shelby eagerly volunteered, waving her arms up and down enthusiastically. Marcus and Ashley chuckled as Shelby lugged me onto her shoulders. Once more I felt like a stuffed animal, and couldn't help but blush. Oh well... at least now I wouldn't be stumbling down the hallway like a derp-eyed fool, and soon enough we'd be sitting down to a nice, long movie.


End file.
